Springs of Salvation: Theoretical and Literary Readings of Glassware from Bohemian Spas Michelle F. Jackson Submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree Master of Arts in the History of Decorative Arts and Design MA Program in the History of the Decorative Arts and Design Cooper-Hewitt, National Design Museum, Smithsonian Institution; and Parsons The New School for Design 2013   ©2013 Michelle F. Jackson All Rights Reserved   Contents Preface iii Chapter One Gegenstände der Leidenschaft (Objects of Passion): Biedermeier Commemorative and Souvenir Glass 1 Chapter Two Reading Spa Glassware: Cultural Landscapes in Nineteenth-Century Central Europe 14 Chapter Three Central European Spa Experiences: Glass and Nationalism in the Early Twentieth Century 36 Conclusions 73 Bibliography 76 Appendix A: German Exonyms and Corresponding Contemporary Czech Endonyms 81 Appendix B: Glass Terminology 82 Illustrations follow page 83.   Illustrations Figures 1. Room in the Apartment of Princess Elisabeth 2. “Scenes from Marienbad” beaker 3. Spa cup, Marienbad 4. Monogrammed cups 5. Goblet 6. Drinks Set, “J. W. Goethe and his nearest and dearest” 7. Hunting Motif Glass 8. Hirschensprung Mug 9. Hirschensprung 10. Caspar David Friedrich, Der Wanderer über dem Nebelmeer 11. Adalbert Stifter, Felsstudie (Hirschensprung) 12. Adalbert Stifter, Wasserfall in Ramsau mit Blick auf dem Watzmann 13a. Postkarte Gruss aus Marienbad 13b. Karlsbad Sprudelwasser Fountain and Kursaal 14. Spa glass, Marienbad, 1850-60 15. Spa cup, Marienbad, 1840-50 16. Friedrich Overbeck, Italia und Germania 17. St. Teresa of Ávila Cup, 1850-60. 18. Christ with Crown of Thorns Cup, 1850-70 19. Gian Lorenzo Bernini, Ecstasy of St. Teresa 20. Glass depicting Our Lady of Svatonovice, 1850-60 21. Cup, Mariazell, a place of pilgrimage, sometime after 1850 22. The hand of Mrs. Wilhelm Roentgen, 1895. 23. Spa Mug, Karlovy Vary 24. Josef Hoffmann, Purkersdorf Sanatorium Façade Design 25. Josef Hoffmann, Purkersdorf Sanatorium Dining Room 26. Josef Hoffmann, Purkersdorf Sanatorium Patient Room 27. Schweizerhof Hotel, Bedroom 28. Schweizerhof Hotel, Grand Hall 29. Schweizerhof Hotel, Dining Room 30. Würzburg Residenz, Bedroom 31. Madonna della Sedia Glass / Portrait of an Unknown Man, 1826 32. Michael Powolny, Bechervase 33. Bozetech Medek, Senosec (Cutting Hay) 34. Jindrich Tockstein, Senosec (Cutting Hay) 35. Raphael, Madonna della Sedia / Madonna della Seggliola. i   Preface The offerings of spa resorts, or Kurorte, in Bohemia during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries have been addressed from many different perspectives. Architectural history, period literature, and geographic surveys all comprise the historiography of the spa and its ubiquity in the popular conception of physical and mental health for the upper classes in Central Europe and abroad. Utilitarian glassware associated with the spa and sanatorium experience rarely appears in exhibition catalogues as an object of interpretive study.1 Rather, the available scholarship often focuses solely on connoisseurship, ignoring the value of a material culture interpretation. My thesis will address the experience of the spa and sanatorium from an interdisciplinary perspective involving both the interpretive study of this specialized glassware and a focused literary and theoretical analysis. Spa, sanatorium, and sanitarium are terms often used interchangeably in English, with slight variations of meaning depending on context. Both spas and sanatoria in Central Europe during the nineteenth century were based, in part, on psychological or physical therapies, so they are inherently related terms, but connotatively different. The Central European spa provided a resort-like atmosphere and a water-centric cure. Sanatoria, in contrast, are usually associated with ailments like tuberculosis, and were dedicated to the curing of long-term illness. Yet, the sanatorium of the nineteenth                                                                                                                1 Petr Novy and Dagmar Halickova’s Zázračné prameny: lázeňské a upomínkové sklo (Jablonec nad Nisou, ii   century still hosted guests for pure recreation.2 Thus the commingling of therapy with leisure is characteristic of both spas and sanatoria, and leads to my treatment of each term according to regional preferences gleaned from usage within period documents and literature. In the context of this thesis, when I refer to “spas” it is specifically to the curing resorts surrounding natural springs in Bohemia, the northern region of present day Czech Republic. Sanatoria, in contrast, relate to the curing centers depicted in the novels of Thomas Mann discussed in Chapter Three—they retain the institutional aspects of the spa resorts, but are largely characterized by a heightened clinical atmosphere and a focus on air therapy rather than balneotherapy.3 An exemption to this usage is the Purkersdorf Sanatorium outside of Vienna, a tuberculosis hospital predicated on close proximity to a natural spring that nevertheless predominantly functioned as a socially elite resort hotel in the early twentieth century.4 In order to explore this environment however, I first address the significance of glass objects in this region. Spa glass is noteworthy as a collection of objects that mediate the curing process. In many cases, they also act as a physical emblem of German and Bohemian material culture. To enrich my formal analysis and contextual placement of the glassware, I will first examine the role of spa and souvenir glasses made during the Biedermeier period in Chapter One. Then, I will examine spa glass of the late nineteenth century through the lens of German Romantic portrayals of the German landscape in Biedermeier fairy tales in Chapter Two, followed by a broader discussion of literary landscapes in Chapter Three, namely Thomas Mann’s portrayals of the sanatorium in                                                                                                                2 Edward Hlawacek, Guide Through Carlsbad and its Environs (Carlsbad: Hans Feller, 1884-1887), 9. 3 Balneotherapy is the treatment of ailments throughing bathing at spas. 4 Museum für Angewandte Kunst, Vienna, Josef Hoffmann, Architecture Guide (Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2010), 95. iii   early twentieth-century German literature. This methodology is indebted to a rich theoretical discourse on material culture studies deeply influenced by scholar Jules David Prown and art historian Erwin Panofsky. Prown’s pivotal research on methodologies of material culture studies lends itself especially well to my discussions of social and political themes woven around objects in Chapter Three. Regional and national identities are just two examples of Prown’s anthropological or cultural/historical attributes that can be gleaned from considering objects as primary sources for contextual analysis. Prown concretely outlines the relationship between objects and societies in his 1982 text, “Mind in Matter”: The underlying premise is that objects made or modified by man reflect, consciously or unconsciously, directly or indirectly, the beliefs of individuals who made, commissioned, purchased, or used them, and by extension the beliefs of the larger society to which they belonged. 5 This multifaceted understanding of the relationship of the object to its maker, user, time, and place are key factors to my analysis of glass made and used in spa regions. Prown’s notion of society is expanded in my work to also include the theoretical extension of cultural memory and collective identity as a meaningful framework to discuss glass objects that embody a regional identity. Whereas his study notes that cultural affiliations negatively or disproportionately color interpretation, I instead welcome this type of culturally indebted interpretation: I focus on these areas of cultural affiliation because they are admittedly biased toward a certain conception of the self in a regional context. This is characterized by looking at two spheres of study and allowing them to dialogue in this project. I will analyze inherently elusive, conceptual ideas—including cultural memory and regional identity—in order to draw out key ways in which social customs                                                                                                                5 Jules David Prown, “Mind in Matter: An Introduction to Material Culture Theory and Method,” Winterthur Portfolio 17, no. 1 (Spring 1982): 2. iv   both create and circulate traditions and identifications through inherently concrete things: spa and souvenir glasses. My treatment of written texts with respect to these figurative and material analyses is rooted in the hermeneutic tradition of textual interpretation, first developed in the nineteenth century as a methodology for biblical analysis and later researched by Panofsky in the 1940s. My analysis of fiction, as in Chapters Two and Three, will demonstrate the applicability of the challenges of hermeneutic interpretation. This methodology, according to Panofsky scholar Keith Moxey, “emphasized the arduous and painstaking nature of any attempt to recreate the meaning of a work within the historical circumstances in which it was produced.”6 This is a problem that can be at least partially remedied with period reviews and later scholarship on my selections of German and Austrian literature. I also examine these texts because they remain widely discussed and reinterpreted in academic and popular spheres as embodiments of cultural idiosyncrasies uniquely associated with the Central European region. Panofsky’s “iconography versus Iconology” methodology for art history also demonstrates why my own juxtaposition of contextual literary perspectives relates to glassware and sheds light on Bohemian regional identity. Before I can discuss the theoretical underpinnings of these glass objects in greater detail, I must introduce the special relationship between this region and its glassmaking industry—a relationship that continues into the present day. Bohemia has a rich history of artistic and innovative glassmaking companies and figures stretching back centuries. It is particularly renowned for the high refractive quality of its crystal production. Potash                                                                                                                6 Keith Moxey, “Panofsky’s Concept of ‘Iconology’ and the Problem of Interpretation in the History of Art,” New Literary History 17, no. 2 (Winter 1986): 267. v   formulas first used for colorless crystal in the seventeenth century were redeveloped in Bohemia in the nineteenth century in order to create crystal wares that were less refined than their British competitors, but also less expensive.7 Cut and engraved glassware was also technically advanced during the nineteenth century, in addition to the development of new chemical combinations to create exotic colors like uranium yellow, green, black, and marbled effects that resembled precious stone. Friedrich Egermann, a glass chemist active during the early nineteenth century in Haida (Novy Bor), part of northern Bohemia developed new chemical combinations in the fabrication process that allowed for the surface glass to imitate semi-precious stones.8 Most gilded decoration was achieved through a new electrotyping process developed during the early nineteenth century, replacing the original handworking process. Lithyalin, the name Egermann coined for stone-like glass in the 1820s, is derived from the Greek “lithos” for stone that is referenced by the opaque marbled surface of the glass. Hyalith, an opaque glass in either red or black, was meant to imitate both natural precious stones and ceramics. It was developed and produced even earlier by the Jirikovo Udolf glassworks around 1816, at the start of the Biedermeier period in Central Europe.9 Traditional Bohemian souvenir and gift glassware often borrowed the forms and new color developments popularized by the innovations at Nový Bor. However, spa cups                                                                                                                7 Georg Himmelheber, Biedermeier. 1815-1835: Architecture, Painting, Sculpture, Decorative Arts, Fashion (Munich: Prestel, 1989), 141. 8 “Haida” is the German name for present-day Nový Bor, a city in the northern area of Liberec in the Bohemian region of the Czech Republic. Unless otherwise noted, regional and city names will be referred to in German with Czech counterparts referenced in brackets. The German titles take precedence here because they were often the primary names used for these areas in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. For a complete list of German exonyms and Czech endonyms, please refer to Appendix A. 9 Antonín Langhamer, James Patrick Kirchner, trans., The Legend of Bohemian Glass (Prague: Tigris, 2003), 71. vi   produced in this region more often depicted landscapes and commemorative city scenes, and were popularized in the Biedermeier era by glass painters Anton Kothgasser and S. Mohn. Spa cities like Karlsbad, home of the famous glass company Moser, were centers for luxury cut glass production in Bohemia, and the creation of opulent hotel experiences for the spa’s Kurgäste (literally, “cure guests”), helped feed the market for luxury glassware both through the spa’s outfitting as well as through souvenirs. The first chapter will discuss the souvenir culture surrounding the spa experience. This analysis will primarily be based on Ranftbecher (footed beakers) and Freundschaftsgläser (Friendship-glasses) examples in the collections of the Jewish Museum and the European Sculpture and Decorative Arts Department at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The significance of the souvenir as a carrier and creator of a commemorative narrative will lead into my second chapter’s application of aesthetic and metaphysical theories as a means to deepen my interpretations. For guests visiting spas in the early to mid-nineteenth century in the Bäderdreieck (Spa Triangle) of Western Bohemia, the spa ritual and its curing promises took on a mystical meaning. The sense that the spa offered not only corporeal wellness, but also spiritual wholeness enables a mystical reading of its physical environment. It references the holistic renewal achieved through embracing the natural environment and the material objects that purvey its elements. The ritualistic use of specially crafted objects for taking water is traced to the traditional thermal and mineral springs and baths of Greece and Rome. Porcelain and glass spa cups in the Bohemian region were designed both to proffer and protect their contents: the unusual cup form has a smaller opening with a hollow handle that acts as a straw for drinking water. By drinking from the handle of the vii   glass (instead of the mouth), the user experiences the waters at their most effective chemical composition.10 Through their innovative design, these drinking vessels emphasize the clinical function of the Kurort. The study of mineral and thermal springs during the nineteenth century reached its height with the institutionalization of balneology as a medical discipline in universities across Germany and the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Taking mineral or thermal waters was understood to be spiritually restorative. Because glassware is constructed entirely from minerals—a former, flux, and various stabilizing agents—it also acts as a tangible link between the realms of chemistry and everyday use. Glass spa cups are at once utilitarian components within the everyday maintenance of a hotel or sanatorium, yet also vehicles for delivering mystical healing waters to ailing or troubled guests. The sanatorium guest’s experience of the German/Bohemian landscape will inform my analysis of German Romantic fairytales by Adalbert Stifter. By relating the experience of nature to aspects of cultural identity inherently woven into these tales, I will argue that spa glasses possess an innate hybrid identity, a combination of German/Bohemian notions of self and location. The final chapter will expand on the issue of regional identity by addressing literary portrayals and historical accounts of spa guests within the larger scope of the sanatorium. Sanatoria in Davos, Switzerland, and spas at Karlsbad and Marienbad in Western Bohemia will be primary examples used to unfold the experience of the spa guest. This analysis will focus on the depiction of the Kurgesellschaft, or spa society, in order to analyze spa glassware as a communicator and mediator of liminality, or a state                                                                                                                10 Vladimír Křížek, Kulturgeschichte des Heilbades (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1990), 5. viii   balanced between material and metaphysical worlds. Here, the physicality of the spa cup and its contents contrasts with its intangible gift: health of mind and body. Mann’s notion of the psychological interior can often inform or mirror the physical world. I will treat Mann’s writing as a primary source: a critically engaged depiction of the social and political culture surrounding the early-twentieth century sanatorium. My thesis will address Bohemian glassware from visual and literary perspectives in order to draw on the perceptions of German and Bohemian cultural identities during the early twentieth century. By combining methodologies, I aim to analyze the role of spa glasses and cups beyond basic surface appraisal; this project will situate glass objects in the physical and metaphysical realms of the Bohemian region and its literary imagination. My thesis will not only broaden existing studies on Bohemian glass, but it will also explore the history of glass through unprecedented contextual and theoretical perspectives, ultimately engaging design history and material culture studies from a mutually inclusive angle.   1   Chapter One Gegenstände der Leidenschaft (Objects of Passion): Biedermeier Commemorative and Souvenir Glass Flow on, flow on in never-ceasing course, Yet may ye never quench my inward fire! Within my bosom heaves a mighty force, Where death and life contend in combat dire. Medicines may serve the body’s pangs to still; Naught but the spirit fails in strength of will.11 The Biedermeier period is characterized by a prominent souvenir and commemorative culture in the lifestyles of bourgeois middle and upper middle-class families in Germany and neighboring Central European regions. Art Historian Laurie Stein’s analysis of this trait cites a description of rooms overcrowded with souvenirs and objects, known as Nippes or trinkets: …the wedding and godparent gifts, the jugs and cups, the tiny bits of embroidery and the small decorative objects which have to be protected from breakage and dust, the memorabilia of friendship and love. Particularly numerous and beloved were the painted cups, with which a true luxury was propelled.12 A mixture of the decorative and the functional, this plethora of objects, paintings, and furniture populated the Wohnzimmer (living room) both of middle class citizens and the aristocratic elite.13 Stein’s view that each room’s configuration of objects and paintings contributed to a distinctive sense of self suggests the special significance attached to individual objects and their mnemonic potential. The crowded interior aesthetic described                                                                                                                11 Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, “Marienbader Elegie,” from Trilogie der Leidenschaft, 1823. Translated by Edgar Alfred Bowring in The Poems of Goethe (London: John W. Parker, 1853). 12 Laurie Stein, “A Culture of Harmony and Memory, ” in Biedermeier: The Invention of Simplicity, Hans Ottomeyer, ed. (Ostfildern, Germany: Hatje Cantz, 2006), 76. Exhibition catalog. 13 Ibid. 2   above is historically depicted in the Zimmerbilder (interior portraits) from the 1820s to the 1840s, watercolor views of interiors with bookshelves, hutches filled with glass and ceramic objects, and paintings arranged in clusters around the room (fig. 1). The painted cups and glassware in these Zimmerbilder are particularly useful as period examples of popular souvenir and display items. The glass Ranftbecher (footed beaker) is a recognizable souvenir form with its beaker shape, cut foot decoration, and slightly flared mouth. This type of cup was often painted with natural vistas, cityscapes, flowers, animals, or imitations of other materials, such as wood or stone.14 Enamel decoration in this style was popularized by Anton Kothgasser, a renowned artist at the Gottlob Mohn porcelain factory in the early nineteenth century. Kothgasser is famous for his enamel work on porcelain as well as glass.15 The transparent enamel technique was first developed by Samuel Mohn sometime in the mid-eighteenth century, and the glass was often decorated with scenes of Vienna or the regional landscape to be sold as souvenirs or commemorative pieces. This chapter will focus on three types of Ranftbecher made in the early nineteenth century for souvenirs, or Andenken. I will analyze the formal decoration and production methods associated with the beakers while also casting them in a theoretical light, as mnemonic signifiers of a distinctly Central European culture. This discussion will act as the foundation for further analysis of glass objects in specific cultural context in Chapters Two and Three, and will demonstrate overarching themes of Central European identity. The German word Andenken is laden with meaning that is often eclipsed when translated                                                                                                                14 Stein, 77. 15 Wendy Moonan, “Antiques,” The New York Times, July 27, 2007. . 3   simply to “keepsake.” Functioning as a gerund (both active and passive), Andenken, when dissected into prefix and root, literally means “to think about (something)” or “to begin to think about.” It loosely translates as an all-encompassing mnemonic package: a distant memory, a reminder, a memorial or anniversary, and a token of travels past. This expanded definition connotes a sense of mindfulness and rumination. I argue that these various meanings are the similar yet variegated threads of memory that become embedded in objects, especially the souvenir object of the nineteenth century, and specifically the topographical glass cup souvenir popularized during the Biedermeier period.16 The Souvenir Spa Glass Addressing the theory behind souvenirs deepens the discussion of spa glassware and leads to a fuller understanding of each cup’s physical attributes. I argue that personal narratives are the most important mnemonic signifiers constructed around objects. Susan Stewart’s analysis of the souvenir is especially applicable to the examples discussed so far. Drawing on Sigmund Freud’s analysis of the fetishized object, Stewart discusses souvenir objects as “systematic transformations of the object into its own possibility.”17 Here, “systematic” refers, in part, to the processes of production; in this case, the Bohemian glassmaking industry is the systematic frame of reference. Stewart’s idea of “transformation” relates to the souvenir as an object with an open-ended, limitless meaning. This concept of transformation addresses both meaning and function with                                                                                                                16 The souvenir cups are categorized by artistic representations of specific localities in most museum collections; this it true for the objects discussed here from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Corning Museum of Glass, and The Jewish Museum. 17 Susan Stewart, On Longing: Narratives on the Miniature, the Gigantic, the Souvenir, the Collection (Durham, NC: Duke Univ. Press, 1984), 135. 4   respect to spa drinking glasses. As glassware, these cups physically embody transformation through the production process from separate chemical compounds into a single glass form. As utilitarian objects in the spa, these pieces participate in the act of bodily transformation through mediation in two senses: as souvenirs, they mediate the user’s memory of the experience, and they are necessary for drinking the spa’s spring water, a task that will be analyzed further in Chapter Two. Souvenirs are often messengers from a distant place that reference knowledge not yet fully experienced by an outside observer. The mnemonic meaning behind souvenir glassware relates to broader narratives associated with the lived experience of both their physical use and their symbolic connections to the life of their individual owners. The concept of temporality as related to the exotic is particularly at play in the case of souvenirs. Comparative literature historian Henry Remak contributed to this discourse in the twentieth century, and his work shows how the analysis of text-based content can also be translated to the analysis objects. Remak looks toward European Romanticism for a nuanced definition of exoticism, especially as it relates to time: Exoticism is not only the discovery of a peculiarly profiled foreign civilization, it is a state of mind. This state or rather fermentation of mind will not terminate with the exploration of a particular culture …in order to satisfy psychic and/or physical Wanderlust.”18 Souvenirs can assuage this desire for travel and its substitute, remembrance, through their ability to physically represent a momentous occasion or experience. The concrete form and decoration of spa glasses relates directly to their representation of abstract memories or experiences. Many of the glasses were not produced in official series, but in varied forms, colors, and decoration with blank areas left for custom                                                                                                                18 Henry H. H. Remak, “Exoticism in Romanticism,” Comparative Literature Studies 15, no. 1 (March 1978), 56. 5   engraving.19 The customizable souvenir glass is akin to a personal narrative—it triggers the memory of the individual and eternalizes that experience through its tangibility as an object. While the object is still related to the physical experience in its role as a souvenir, the glass cup also possesses a mnemonic function as a signifier for the Bohemian spa experience. A spa beaker and accompanying decanter from Marienbad in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art exemplifies the Biedermeier period’s special emphasis on memory and longing (fig. 2). This glass souvenir cup, measuring a mere 11.7 cm in height, is decorated with enameled medallions depicting butterflies, flowers, and scenes from the town of Marienbad, including the Hirtenruhe (“Shepherd’s Rest”) vista-viewing platform and various spring pavilions in the surrounding area.20 The bright, jewel-like tones of the enamel glitter against a colorless glass body, demonstrating the regional affinity for painted glass decoration. It is part of a series that presently only includes a matching decanter with similar decorative medallions of scenes from the spa town. Stewart’s analysis of the souvenir helps to illuminate the possible meanings behind an object like the Marienbad spa beaker. As Stewart outlines, souvenirs mark special or rare events, and therefore “exist only through the invention of narrative.”21 As products for the consumer society, souvenirs represent a complicated overlapping of gifts, gift-giving practices, self-fashioning, and display techniques. The Marienbad Kreuzbrunnen (literally, “Cross-fountain”) goblet from 1840-50 is a particularly rich case study for gleaning mnemonic meaning. Technically superior to simpler versions because                                                                                                                19 Nový and Havlíčková, 28. 20 Stein, 76. 21 Stewart, 136. 6   of its use of cranberry flashed glass, the small cup also shows high quality cut and enameled decoration (fig. 3). By exhibiting the range of decorative expertise of the Harrach glassworks, the goblet demonstrates a regional pride in glassmaking that extends to the pride of owning one of these souvenirs.22 This display of craftsmanship also reflects well of its user or owner, an important aspect of the upper-class patronage of spas in the nineteenth century. The cup’s body references a chalice form and its association with taking the spring waters evokes a sense of ritual. The cup, then, is self-reflexive: its imagery represents the Kreuzbrunnen, one of the most iconic fountains/springs at Marienbad, and its form is the vehicle used to imbibe the Kreuzbrunnen’s product, curative waters. Stewart’s notion that a souvenir must “remain impoverished and partial so that it can be supplemented by a narrative discourse… which articulates the play of desire,” translates to the glassmaker’s practice of creating blank souvenirs in order to literally allow for personalized articulation.23 The narrative discourse in this case is the proliferation of the object as a gift or display piece. Engraved initials, or perhaps a date, act as a textual signifier for the broader narrative surrounding the guest’s stay as well as the aspirations attached to the trip. The act of labeling the cup “Kreuzbrunnen in Marienbad” (engraved at the base of the central medallion) denotes its role as a postcard image transposed to glass—a proliferation of a landscape’s landmark onto the region’s most popular commodity.24                                                                                                                22 Nový and Havlíčková, 36. 23 Stewart, ibid. 24 With the invention and popularization of lithography and photography in the mid-nineteenth century, this type of glassware depicting spa vistas went out of style because of its inability to transfix a public now 7   Souvenirs for the Home and for the Mind: German Romanticism and Glass Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s immense influence on German cultural and intellectual history as an author, artist, theorist, and critic is unquestionable.25 Active as a critic and theorist during the eighteenth and early-nineteenth centuries, Goethe’s own experience with Bohemian glass and the spa region during the Biedermeier period illustrates the importance of souvenir culture, commemorative glassware, and the “objecthood” afforded to these pieces. Goethe spent many of his later years at the Bohemian spa town of Marienbad (today Marianske Lazne) where he met the von Levetzow family, and became particularly friendly with one of three daughters, Ulrike von Levetzow.26 At 73, Goethe proposed to Ulrike, 18 at the time, and who immediately declined his offer. As records at the Metropolitan Museum of Art reflect, and Goethe’s personal letters corroborate, a gift of a glass beaker engraved with the names of the three von Levetzow sisters was given to Goethe on the occasion of his 75th birthday in 1824. An April 1824 letter from Goethe to Ulrike mentions this glass and its heightened sensory effects on the author: …Think of me with the dear children and grant me the hope that, arriving with the same feelings, I shall be welcome to the dear ones in the old place. Meanwhile the neat goblet remains the confidant of my thoughts; the sweet monograms                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          interested in more realistic images of the landscape on postcards and other souvenirs. See, Nový and Havlíčková, 63. 25 Goethe’s contributions to color theory and optics in 1810 will especially inform a discussion in Chapter Three of Biedermeier aesthetics used in sanatoria interiors. 26 Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Goethe-Briefe: Mit Einleitungen und Erläuterungen, Philipp Stein, ed. (Berlin: Otto Eisner, 1905), 58. 8   approach my lips, and, if it were not so far off, the 28th of August should afford me the most pleasing prospect. A cosy clink of glasses and so forth. Ever yours.27 The close of Goethe’s love letter is noteworthy for two poetic descriptions of this gift: the notion of an object, literally, as confidant (or trustee) of one’s inner thoughts and Goethe’s personal use of this cup-- this is not a ceremonial piece as some Biedermeier-era souvenir beakers often were intended; on the contrary, not only does Goethe use the cup, the very act of drinking from it has a heightened sense of contemplative meaning for him. Goethe attributes an emotional association to this object, clearly remembering Ulrike and their time spent at Marienbad together with each “cosy clink” of glass. This object is a vessel in two senses: first, as a container of the Marienbad waters and second, as a metaphysical vessel capable of eliciting and protecting precious memories of relationships and places. Goethe’s strong emotional associations with the spa region are encapsulated in the Trilogie der Leidenschaft (Trilogy of Passion), three poems written between August 1823 and March 1824. The Marienbader Elegie (Marienbad Elegy) quoted at the start of this passage illuminates the author’s emotional connection to the spa region and helps to underscore the passionate current running through his work. The water imagery in this stanza is particularly expository of the German Romantic relationship between self and nature: Flow on, flow on in never-ceasing course, Yet may ye never quench my inward fire!                                                                                                                27 “Gedenken Sie mein mit den lieben Kindern und gönnen mir die Hoffnung daß ich, mit den gleichen Gefühlen und einigen underhaltenden Druckheften ankommend, den Lieben an dem alten Bläßchen willkommen sehn werde. In dessen bleibt der zierliche Becher der Vertraute meiner Gedanken, die süßen Nahmeszüge nähern sich meinen Lippen, und der 28te August, wenn es nicht soweit hin wäre, sollte mir die erfreulichste Aussicht geben. Ein trautes Anstoßen und so weiter. Unwandelbar, Goethe. Weimar d. 13 Apr., 1824.” Quoted and translated in Albert Bielschowksy, The Life of Goethe: 1815-1832. From the Congress of Vienna to the Poet's Death (New York: Putnam, 1908), 161. 9   Within my bosom heaves a mighty force, Where death and life contend in combat dire. Medicines may serve the body’s pangs to still; Naught but the spirit fails in strength of will.28 Here, Goethe’s dichotomy between spirit and body also parallels the individual and nature. The reference to “Medicines” in this translation is somewhat clinical given the original text’s use of “Kräuter,” or herbs of medicinal value. This reference to homeopathic healing methods, while lost in the English translation, nevertheless underscores Goethe’s experience at Marienbad where the basic elements of air, water, and landscape were used as treatments for both psychological and bodily ailments. Goethe’s depiction of passion verges on the religious through evocative references to the healing capabilities of spring water, and communicates the intensity of Goethe’s Marienbad memories. Goethe’s poetic impressions of the Bohemian spas are one example of the private remembrances attached to commemorative spa glasses, and a concrete mode of viewing Stewart’s souvenir theory. There are many versions of commemorative gift glassware similar to Goethe’s spa goblet in the collection of Jablonec nad Nisou, including three monogrammed goblets ranging from 1830 to 1850 (fig. 4).29 Memories of events, people, and places are literally applied to souvenir and commemorative glassware in the Biedermeier tradition through customized engraving or enameling decoration. Each references the gift’s purpose, whether for friendship, anniversaries, birthdays, name days, or similar milestones. These three examples from the Czech Republic all possess the                                                                                                                28 Bowring, The Poems of Goethe (London: John W. Parker, 1853). 29 The original goblet gifted to Goethe by the von Levetzow family is not currently in any known museum collection. The illustrative examples from the Muzeum skla a bizuterie in Jablonec nad Nisou, Czech Republic are closely matched to the style and decoration of Goethe’s own description of the glass cup. 10   simplicity of colorless crystal, delicate diamond point engraving, and thickly cut, squared off feet—a style that mirrors the goblet described in Goethe’s letters. Floral decorations encircle each upper lip as well as the monogrammed initials at the center of each body. Created to commemorate a name day or birthday, the glasses are produced out of the Jizera mountains, most likely by the glass company Kokonín—a central area for spa and recreational tourism, and a major production center for souvenir and commemorative glasses.30 The formal, refined script of the monograms contrasts with the rustic thickness of the foot construction, likely demonstrating that these examples were customizable pieces and intended for everyday use, as in Goethe’s case. Irmgard Wagner’s interpretation of Goethe’s extensive holidays in the spa region sheds light on the more metaphysical aspects of the spa, or Kurort (literally, “cure location”), as a festival site… a place exempt from, outside of everyday life. As described in a famous literary example, such a Zauberberg has a heightening, intensifying effect on experience. The spa as exception conveys, on the one hand, a sharper focus on things. On the other hand, in this place on the outside things and experiences acquire an aura of liminality, of an in-between existence where the inclusiveness of both / and replaces the alternative of either / or, where the freedom of indecision liberates from the necessity of choice.  31 The concept of ritual and communal festivals is noteworthy in relation to the mug’s function as a bearer of the mysteriously restorative mineral waters within the spa. The mug’s role in this ceremonial or transcendental experience of “curing” deepens its symbolism as an emblem for the craftsmanship of the Bohemian region. It is at once an                                                                                                                30 Nový and Havlíčková, 102; Name days are yearly celebrations popular in European and Latin countries that are comparable to American celebrations of birthdays. In Germany, name days are largely based on the commemoration of saints and martyrs in the Catholic traditions, a name day is historically as important as an individual’s birthday. 31 Irmgard Wagner, “Goethe’s Bohemian Traces or: Marienbad Mirrorings,” Modern Language Studies 31, no. 1 (Spring 2001), 151. 11   item of functionality within the quotidian maintenance of a spa hotel, yet also a vessel capable of delivering mystical healing waters to ailing or troubled guests. As an integral component in the spa guest’s experience, the glass object takes on the twofold role as a utilitarian object as well as a conveyor of the more experiential and conceptual products of mental clarity and physical strength. This contributes to a multilayered reading of the mug’s form and decoration as emblematic of Bohemian culture, and, through its material, the region’s glassmaking tradition. This mug displays a juxtaposition of two advanced, yet still imitative, decorative techniques, and its complex application of each as substitutes for more luxurious traditional decoration underscores an amicable coexistence of ostensibly incongruent compositional elements. The contrasting elements of the handle and body re-form the traditional Bohemian beaker form, just as the mineral water it is made to carry would revitalize the body. The more existential reading of the mug places its problematic decorative scheme in a larger context, admittedly of amusement and leisure, but also in the more nuanced realm of corporeal restoration and communal ritualism. Goethe’s goblet also references the popularity of acknowledging the joys of personal relationships during the Biedermeier period through glass objects. This was a common decorative theme of commemorative gift glassware produced in Bohemia at the time. An example of a Freundschaftsglas (“friendship glass”) at the Corning Museum of Glass is especially indicative of the dual mnemonic and usable functions of the cup (fig. 5). The cup is inscribed with “Aus Dankbarkeit und Liebe … Froh geniese noch lange / und oft aus diesen Glas” (“For Gratitude and Love... happily enjoy from this cup for a 12   long time to come”).32 This cup can be considered a standard of Freundschaftsglas, because of its simple goblet form, yellow staining, and black silhouettes—all characteristics that repeat in many other examples of friendship, marriage, and name day pieces.33 The body of the goblet is stained with the black silhouettes of a man and woman facing each other on a yellow field; they are the visual subjects of the inscription and face each and yet anonymously in silhouette. The monogrammed initials, “FCS” are engraved in the lower register with the location and date, “Dresden, 25. December 1809.” The cup was most likely produced in blanks and later personalized for the owners, much as engraved spa souvenir glasses were created en masse and decorated in the showroom as the buyer watched.34 This type of personal commemorative glass is a repeated form in the nineteenth century, especially with the use of silhouettes. Silhouettes allowed for personalization but also for commemoration of cultural icons. This is true for a drinking set comprised of thirteen pieces is entitled “J. W. Goethe and his nearest and dearest” produced by J. & L. Lobmeyr around 1900 (fig. 6). Composed of colorless crystal with gold leaf bands encircling the lips, each piece features a black silhouette on a gold leaf medallion representing a different member of the Goethe family, with Goethe’s profile recognizable on the largest covered carafe. The later date for this set is especially noteworthy as an example of mnemonic weight: it shows a reverberating desire to produce wares with commemorative significance, both personal and historical, and connects the owner to Goethe’s rich cultural history as a public icon in                                                                                                                32 Corning Museum of Glass, “Goblet, 79.3.204,” Corning Museum of Glass Online Collection Search, http://www.cmog.org/artwork/goblet731?query=biedermeier&goto=node/51200&filter=%22bundle%3Aartwork%22&sort=bs_has_image%20desc%2Cscore%20desc%2Cbs_on_display%20desc&object=9#.URAqjaF2FU4 (accessed January 15, 2012). 33 Ibid. 34 See, Nový and Havlíčková. 13   German-speaking regions. The owner of the Goethe set would demonstrate an affinity with German intellectual history in addition to the Biedermeier sensibilities of simplicity and family, ultimately celebrating the remembrances of the past through glass. This celebration of the past is embedded in the souvenir. The functionality and commemorative possibilities attached to spa glassware provide a sense of mindfulness; they evoke the connotative spirit of the German “keepsake,” Andenken, as objects inherently tied to contemplation. The importance of personal relationships figured prominently in the décor of the Biedermeier middle class home, and the continual reminder of both past and present anniversaries or times well spent is embodied by these souvenirs. Goethe is one example of the interplay between text, image, and objects as a means for communicating intense personal memories. He represents the Biedermeier era’s fixation on inner thought—a cultural tendency that carries to the social contexts of the later nineteenth century, especially in German literature connected to the Romantic landscape. Central Europe of the nineteenth century had a unique social context characterized by a rise in travel and production, and dispersal of wealth to harbor a new middle class. The consequent rise of the modern urban center during this time is a key factor to understanding the popularity of the spa cure—a visit to the spas for psychological and corporeal ills was often considered a solution to the hectic, fetid surroundings of the common city. As I will discuss further in Chapter Two, the Bohemian spa acted as a respite from the over-stimulation of the modern milieu by offering a contrasting environment: the natural landscape. 14   Chapter Two Reading Spa Glassware: Cultural Landscapes in Nineteenth-Century Central Europe And he who has lost both happiness and health, if he drinks of this water and breathes of this air, will regain them.35 Spa Glass Typologies The English word “spa” omits many of the nuanced spiritualistic and mystical connotations surrounding the multiple German interpretations of this word. In addition to Kurort (literally, “place of curing”), the synonyms Heilquelle and Heilstätte can be translated literally as “spring of salvation” and “place of wellness,” while retaining their original, operative meaning: sanatorium or, more simply, spa.36 Because the nineteenth-century spa experience offered the possibility of strengthening both mind and body, a metaphysical reading of both constructed and natural environments is important to the analysis of glass objects used at the spa. A discussion of the cultural resonance of period literary portrayals of the surrounding Bohemian landscape will inform this discussion of objects. I will analyze how the spa and its Bohemian landscape reference both spiritual and corporeal health in period fairy tales and allegories by Adalbert Stifter and Franz Pforr, all acting as popular representatives associated with Volkskultur (Folk-culture) during the Romantic period. My analysis of popular glass spa cups and souvenirs will                                                                                                                35 “Und wer beides, Fröhlichkeit und Gesundheit, verloren hat, der erhält sie wieder, wenn er von diesem Wasser trinkt und von dieser Luft atmet.” Adalbert Stifter, Der Waldbrunnen, 1866. Düsseldorfer Künstler Album (Düsseldorf: 1866), http://www.zeno.org/Literatur/M/Stifter,+Adalbert/Erz%C3%A4hlungen/Der +Waldbrunnen. Author’s translation. 36 The etymology of “spa” itself is traced to the eastern Belgian spring town of the same name founded since the fourteenth century; The Belgian Walloon espa translates to “spring” or “fountain.” Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary, s.v., “Spa,” http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/spa (accessed January 1, 2013). 15   enrich this theoretical and literary discussion by grounding them in the tangible realm of objects. Intricately cut and enameled decoration used on glass spa cups from the mid-nineteenth century helps to illustrate these abstract ideas relating to the Kurort and its connections to the landscape. In terms of cultural context, the importance of religion in the spa environment is central. In this predominantly Catholic region of Bohemia and Southern Germany, there were many Christian spa-goers, demonstrating a broad adherence to Christian cultural values, especially a mystical association to healing waters. Period guidebooks attest to this Christian presence, markedly in Apollinaris Victor Jagielski’s 1873 guide, On Marienbad Spa, and the diseases curable by its waters and baths, where he states that the “prevailing religion is Roman Catholic.”37 Marienbad and Karlsbad were recommended specifically for psychological disorders, as well as cardiovascular, gynecological, and pulmonary ailments.38 Religious shrines and chapels as well as synagogues were prominently positioned in the landscape of spa resort towns providing the opportunity for spiritual reflection in tandem with the curative constitutional walks and mineral water regimens. Special drinking vessels, sometimes referred to as Porrón glasses, constitute one aspect of Bohemian material culture in spa resorts.39 When considering the spa cup’s role as both a souvenir and a specifically functional object, it becomes apparent that such glasses were meant for more than just display. Western Bohemian spa glasses assume a                                                                                                                37 Apollinaris Victor Jagielski, On Marienbad Spa, and the diseases curable by its waters and baths (Trübner: 1873), 4. 38 Nový and Havlíčková, 32. 39 Ibid., 19. 16   range of forms and decoration during the nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries. Separated into three primary categories, the types of glasses include souvenirs, artistic or display pieces, and special drinking vessels. The special drinking vessels are unusual for their form and function in the context of the Kurort and its physical surroundings. At a glance, they appear to be everyday glass cups, yet these special drinking glasses possess a uniquely dual function: primarily utilitarian objects, they could also become souvenirs, or carriers of the narrative surrounding the spa guest’s pursuit of improved health. Chapter One discusses the mnemonic capability of spa souvenirs as related to a personal narrative; however, these spa glasses also embody broader narratives attached to social, cultural, and religious nuances that are illuminated through a contextual reading of three types of decoration: natural imagery, architectural imagery, and historically sacred imagery. Glass and the Romantic Landscape Glasses from the spa city of Karlsbad (Karlovy Vary) display a distinctive narrative: the spa’s connection to nature and the Bohemian landscape. Two spa mugs in the collection of Muzeum skla a bizuterie in the Czech Republic display relatively simple decorative techniques with engraved and flashed red glass over colorless glass (figs. 7-8).40 As a result of flashing, the technique allows for the illusion of depth and simple silhouettes that are immediately recognizable as a result. In these examples, the iconic view of the Hirschensprung, or “stag’s leap,” statue in the Karlsbad outdoor trails is a popular decorative motif (fig. 9). The Hirschensprung, a rocky formation where                                                                                                                40 Flashing is “the application of a very thin layer of glass of one color over a layer of contrasting color.” Corning Museum of Glass Dictionary, s.v. “Flashing,” http://www.cmog.org/research/glass-dictionary/a (accessed February 1, 2012). 17   precipices are separated by narrow thruways, is a landmark in the Karlsbad hiking paths, complete with a stag statue perched atop the rock. The spa guest’s historical experience of the landscape is inherently connected to Central European notions of nature and how this interest in nature relates to local identity. Vistas of snow-capped mountains and chalets, tucked into green valleys with winding rivers are two of the most prevalent visual tropes of the Central European landscape depicted both on presentational spa glasses and in Romantic paintings and literature. Austrian author Adalbert Stifter’s novella, Bergkristall (Rock Crystal) is a vernacular fairy tale about two children lost in a mountain blizzard in the Bohemian mountains. Stifter’s descriptions of the landscape are the literary counterparts to the natural imagery depicted on spa glass surfaces. Stifter included detailed passages about flora, fauna, and mountain season trends. In his writings, landscape is more than just a physical setting: it becomes a pivotal character in the magical and otherworldly experience his characters have in a glacial formation high up in the mountains: At the spot where the opening emerged, there yawned a vault of ice beautifully arched above it. The children continued in the trench and, entering the vault, went in further and further. It was quite dry and there was smooth ice under their feet. The cavern, however, was blue, bluer than anything else in the world, more profoundly and more beautifully blue than the sky, as blue as azure glass through which a bright glow is diffused. There were more heavy flutings, icicles hung down pointed and tufted, and the passage led inward still further, they knew not how far; but they did not go on. It would have been pleasant to stay in this grotto, it was warm and no snow could come in; but it was so fearfully blue that the children took fright and ran out again.41                                                                                                                41 “Wie sie so unter die Überhänge hineinsahen, gleichsam als gäbe ihnen ein Trieb ein, ein Obdach zu suchen, gelangten sie in einen Graben, in einen breiten, tiefgefurchten Graben, der gerade aus dem Eise hervorging. Er sah aus wie das Bett eines Stromes, der aber jetzt ausgetrocknet und überall mit frischem Schnee bedeckt war. Wo er aus dem Eise hervorkam, ging er gerade unter einem Kellergewölbe heraus, das recht schön aus Eis über ihn gespannt war. Die Kinder gingen in dem Graben fort und gingen in das Gewölbe hinein und immer tiefer hinein. Es war ganz trocken, und unter ihren Füßen hatten sie glattes Eis. In der ganzen Höhlung aber war es blau, so blau, wie gar nichts in der Welt ist, viel tiefer und viel schöner 18   Stifter’s comparison of ice to glass in this passage is especially noteworthy because it juxtaposes images of the natural and manmade, and thus echoes traditional fairy tale plot constructions.42 The simultaneous safety of the grotto and its awe-inspiring aura denotes an image of the landscape as both nurturing and uncanny.43 For Central European glassmakers, the interest in crystals and semi-precious stones is rooted in alchemical practices of the seventeenth century, when glassmakers experimented with variations in color, clarity, and thickness to discover the “philosopher’s stone,” or to make gold.44 Stifter’s title, Rock Crystal, refers to a type of luxurious, transparent quartz that was mimicked in England using leaded glass in order to create a less expensive version of the original stone. The demand for intricately cut colorless glass was also instrumental in shaping the glass industry: the predilection for diamonds amongst the French aristocracy influenced the English glass market and its Bohemian immigrant glassworkers to produce                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          blau als das Firmament, gleichsam wie himmelblau gefärbtes Glas, durch welches lichter Schein hineinsinkt. Es waren dickere und dünnere Bogen, es hingen Zacken, Spitzen und Troddeln herab, der Gang wäre noch tiefer zurückgegangen, sie wußten nicht, wie tief, aber sie gingen nicht mehr weiter. Es wäre auch sehr gut in der Höhle gewesen, es war warm, es fiel kein Schnee, aber es war so schreckhaft blau, die Kinder fürchteten sich und gingen wieder hinaus.” Adalbert Stifter, Bergkristall und andere Meistererzählungen (Zürich: Diogenes, 2005), 213. Author’s translation. 42 See, Donald Haase, “The Sleeping Script: Memory and Forgetting in Grimms’ Romantic Fairy Tale,” Merveilles & contes 4, no. 2 (December 1990): 166-176. 43 See, Rosemarie Haag-Bletter, “Paul Scheerbart’s Architectural Fantasies,” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 34, no. 2 (May 1975), http://www.jstor.org/stable/988996. This type of imagery would later become important to German expressionist architects at the start of the twentieth century, especially as a vehicle for utopian discourses on design. In Chapter Three, Glass Architecture, a utopian treatise by Paul Scheerbart, will demonstrate the importance of architectural theory related to glass in the early twentieth century, and will inform my analysis of glass in Thomas Mann’s Der Zauberberg. 44 Dedo von Kerssenbrock-Krosigk, ed. Glass of the Alchemists: Lead Crystal - Gold Ruby, 1650-1750 (Corning, NY: Corning Museum of Glass, 2008), 131-2. 19   intricately cut leaded crystal. This type of glassware was also produced in Bohemia, but was less expensive because of its lesser clarity.45 In addition to its connections with the region’s glassmaking tradition, Stifter’s lyrical description of the blue grotto highlights the natural landscape as a space of paradox: it is one that allows the children an escape from death, yet is still forbidding in its majestic quality. The majesty of nature is inherently connected to the German Romantic definition of the sublime, and stems in part from Edmund Burke’s 1757 treatise, A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and the Beauty, as well as Immanuel Kant’s Observations on the Feeling of the Beautiful and the Sublime published shortly after in 1764. For Kant, and later Arthur Schopenhauer in the nineteenth century, the sublime is characterized by observation of awe-inspiring objects or scenes, usually as an expression of the apprehension of nature’s simultaneous beauty and destructiveness.46 In nineteenth-century German existentialism, the Alps are a repeated signifier for the sublime; at once symbolizing the immensity of nature and, more broadly, the universe. This Romantic notion of the sublime in nature is prominently portrayed in Stifter’s writing, but it is framed through a distinctly Central European lens. Stifter’s interpretation of the sublime encompasses a specific and recognizable landscape defined by contrasts: heights and crevices, concurrently snowladen and verdant topology, thick forests and meadows, and of course, the presence of mineral water springs.                                                                                                                45 Hans Ottomeyer, ed. (Biedermeier: The Invention of Simplicity, Ostfildern, Germany: Hatje Cantz, 2006), 202. 46 Guglielmo Scaramellini, “The Picturesque and the Sublime in Nature and the Landscape: Writing and Iconography in the Romantic Voyaging of the Alps,” GeoJournal 38, no. 1 (January 1996): 52. Kant’s treatise on the sublime categorizes reactions to the sublime and the beautiful using national categories as well; this desire to concretize the aesthetic abilities of general groups directly relates to Chapter Three’s discussion of collective memory theories and Czech glassware focused on Bohemian regionalism. 20   This image of the sublime landscape is embodied iconically in the paintings of Caspar David Friedrich, as seen in The Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog from 1818 (fig. 10). Friedrich romanticizes the natural landscape in order to communicate and condense the scene into a recognizable composition of the unique formations and clusters in the Elbe Sandstone Mountains that border East German Saxony and Northwestern Bohemia. The rocks emerge out of the fogged air as though primordial, or crystalline. Friedrich disregards accurate scale and location in an attempt to portray the Bohemian mountainscape holistically. It is a dual portrait in this respect: a study of the Bohemian “Alps,” yet also a portrait concerned with the human apprehension of this sublime environment, and the connections between the natural, physical space and the individual’s psychological relationship to this space. This concept of self-identification via landscape imagery plays a prominent role in the Romantic period, and with the new development of travel guides for the Bohemian and Swiss alps produced in the nineteenth century, it is a concept dependent on discovery in both literal and figurative senses. As chapter three of this project will further discuss from a twentieth-century standpoint, the individual’s orientation to the landscape and his or her own self-image is integral to understanding cultural identity from a regional perspective. The transposing of iconic geographical landmarks in German Romantic paintings is not unique to Friedrich’s work, however: Stifter himself also participated in this visual representation of the landscape through his own paintings, in addition to his written narratives of Bohemian and Austrian locales. In his 1840 oil painting Felsstudie (Hirschensprung) (“Stone Study near Stag’s Leap”) completed at the Karlsbad Hirschensprung, Stifter’s treatment of the setting is both detailed and abstract (fig. 11). 21   An picture plane with an unfinished edge depicts large rock formations rendered in grays, blues, browns, and black. The rock textures vary with the use of thick impasto, visualizing sunlight in areas of white highlights. The stone takes on an undulating character similar to flowing water, and this contributes to a sense of abstraction: without the aid of a title, the subject could be a tumultuous stream, stormy seascape, or an abstracted night sky. The interest in the minutiae of the Bohemian landscape is especially important here— Stifter experimented with depicting the very essence of the geological formations surrounding his visual and his literary oeuvre. His drawings and paintings of Northwestern Bohemia in the mid-nineteenth century are similar to Friedrich’s, but employ a looser technique, often with quicker and more open brushwork, sometimes verging on abstraction. One comparable example to Friedrich’s Wanderer is the 1829 oil painting Wasserfall in der Ramsau mit Blick auf den Watzmann (Waterfall in Ramsau with view of the Watzmann) (fig. 12). The subject matter is the same (the Watzmann mountain formation is featured in many of Friedrich’s paintings, and prominently so in Der Wanderer’s background), yet treated in a different way. Where Friedrich inserts drama and movement in the rocky crags and the dynamic pose of the hiker, Stifter sees bucolic hills, calm streams and a forest dotted with dappled sunlight in a landscape devoid of human presence. Stifter’s visual language assumes the same tone and texture of his narrative portrayals, as seen in the 1866 novella Der Waldbrunnen (The Forest Fountain): Every day when they had the morning underway, the grandfather led the children up to the forest well, and they drank from the beautiful glass beaker using the fountain, and they saw the trees and flowers, and grass, and the forest’s butterflies, and his beetles and his little creatures, and heard the 22   birds sing. …There, the vast forest lay at their feet, and below the vast land with fields, meadows, forests, houses, villages, churches; they saw the Danube, the Inn, the Isar, and then the blue belt of the Tyrolean Alps…47 The glass beaker plays a magical role in the story of a grandfather and a gypsy girl who comes with them to the fountain. The images of the arresting pastoral vista are one demonstration of the importance of taking spring waters outdoors. Stifter’s fountain is cast as necessarily “Bohemian”: it is inherent in the geographical configuration and influenced by the very stones, sediment, and plants that surround it—so much that the neighboring regions are said to possess “unreiner Boden,” or impure soil incapable of harboring the same sacred waters. 48 Stifter’s attention to the details of the landscape’s topography provides an intimate portrait of the environment, and is the literary equivalent of a landscape postcard—a souvenir in narrative form. Classical Architecture and Cross-Cultural Influences: Reading into Italiensehnsucht Souvenirs played a prominent role in the spring areas like those described by Stifter, and glassware souvenirs can provide special insight into the cultural climate of Central Europe. In postcards depicting the Kursaal, or colonnaded interior space within the resort, both ionic and doric columns are prominent (figs. 13a and b). The colonnade or promenade was a prevalent architectural component of spa hotels, and spring basins were located throughout this space, allowing for crowds to stroll and drink at a leisurely                                                                                                                47 “An einem jeden Tage, wenn sie nach dem Morgengange gelernt hatten, führte der Großvater die Kinder zu dem Waldbrunnen hinauf, und sie tranken mittelst des schönen Glasbechers von dem Wasser des Brunnens, und sie sahen die Bäume und Blumen und Grasblätter des Waldes und seine Faltern und seine Käfer und seine Tierchen, und hörten die Vögel singen. …Da lag der ungeheure Wald zu ihren Füßen, dann das weite Land mit Feldern, Wiesen, Wäldern, Häusern, Dörfern, Kirchen; den Donaustrom sahen sie, den Inn, die Isar, und dann den blauen Gürtel der Alpen von Tirol…” (Emphasis added). Stifter, Der Waldbrunnen, 866. Author’s translation. 48 Stifter, ibid. 23   pace.49 The pastiche quality of the architecture used for these buildings is also exhibited in coastal examples, as discussed in Klaus Winand’s extensive research on the seaside resort towns in Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, Germany. For Winand, the definition of Bäderarchitektur (“Bath-house Architecture”) could easily be applied to the structures of Bohemian Kurorte because they encompass “neither a style nor specific architectural movement, [but] rather [are] characterized by different components of styles, décor elements, and uses, that can nevertheless be grouped together under the same concept.”50 While Winand focuses on coastal resort architecture for his study (as opposed to the inland Kurorte and resorts I discuss here), the distinction is nevertheless still applicable to Kur buildings, hotels, and fountain structures in the Bohemian region, especially those depicted on spa glassware. The enclosures designed to house the Bohemian springs themselves, whether on a hotel’s main site or within the landscape itself, engage aspects of neoclassical architecture. Evocative of small Greco-Roman temples, these enclosures employ colonnades, pediments, and domes in the Carolinenbrunnen, or “Caroline’s Fountain,” in Karlsbad and a cup enameled with Ferdinand’s Fountain (figs. 14 and 15). The use of historical styles in a resort setting highlights the importance of the spa as a specific type of total experience: the buildings signal a culturally rich tradition of architecture while simultaneously aligning with the Central European interest in Southern European culture                                                                                                                49 The plumbing in these situations varied depending on the location. Indoor colonnades usually had diverted springs with multiple areas for ladling (the water would not be deposited into bowls by hand, rather pumped into the different basins, or built directly over the sight of the spring). In the case of springs outside the constructed environs of the spa resort or sanatorium, the fountains are found naturally and have basins and architectural shelters built around them. See, Herbert Lachmayer, ed., Das Bad: Eine Geschichte der Badekultur im 19. und 10. Jahrhundert, (Salzburg: Residenz, 1991). 50 Wilhelm Hüls and Ulf Böttcher, Bäderarchitekur (Erfurt, Germany: Hinstorff, 2000), 7. 24   and the Italian Renaissance. The colonnade structure, as well as classical column/pediment configuration, in many of these spring enclosures references a broader cultural tendency in the German sphere: Italiensehnsucht, or the longing for Italy—specifically Renaissance Italy and classical antiquity.51 The relationship between Zivilization and Kultur, literally, “Civilization” and “Culture,” presents a cross-cultural interpretation of the visual elements used to decorate Bohemian spa glass, and begins my discussion of objects as bearers of cultural identity. These two terms express a dichotomy between the cultural views of Germany/Northern Europe and Southern Europe, specifically Italy. Kultur encompasses the realm of vernacular, folk, or that which may be interpreted as inherently “German,” while Zivilization is considered foreign, sophisticated, and sometimes artificial.52 The translation of Kultur is closely related to its adjective, kulturell, that is, describing the “value and character of particular human products rather than the intrinsic value of a person.”53 Put simply, these terms are also accorded regional distinctions: Zivilization is connected to Southern Europe (Italy) and Kultur/Kulturell society associated with the north—Germany.54 The use of classical architecture associated with Italy in a setting considered inherently Northern is a noteworthy overlap of these two terms. Classical                                                                                                                51 Hubertus Kohle, “Orte der Sehnsucht: Mit Künstlern auf Reisen” (lecture, Ludwig-Maximilians-Universität, Institut für Kunstwissenschaften, Munich, Germany, Fall 2009). 52 Hubertus Kohle (lecture); Freyja Hartzell, “The Gründerzeit and the Aesthetic of ‘Germanness’” (lecture, Parsons The New School for Design/Cooper-Hewitt, National Design Museum, New York, NY, Sept. 9, 2011). 53 Norbert Elias, “Sociogenesis of the Antithesis between Kultur and Zivilization in German Usage” in The Civilizing Process: Sociogenetic and Psychogenetic Investigations, New York: Wiley-Blackwell, 2000), 6. 54 The era of the Grand Tour retained cultural resonance into the mid-nineteenth century and was considered an educational coming of age journey for upper middle class men of Europe. In the German context, this trip was famously chronicled by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe in the eighteenth century, and continues to be a cultural touchstone for German literature, music, and art. See, Wilhelm Waetztoldt Das Klassische Land: Wandlungen der Italiensehnsucht, (Leipzig: Seemann, 1927). 25   architecture framed the experience of the spa-goer just as the souvenir glass cups decorated with architectural imagery framed the memory of these spaces. The incorporation of Roman architectural styles into a distinctly Northern natural environment demonstrates the cultural complexities attached to Zivilization and Kultur, and a burgeoning desire to explore Central European identity through cultural intersections or impasses. The realms of Zivilization and Kultur are not as diametrically opposed as sociologically studies often paint them to be: the short allegorical novella, Das Buch Shulamith und Maria written by German Nazarene painter Franz Pforr is an example of the intersection between Zivilization and Kultur, and demonstrates the cultural tone attached to these terms. The author assumed the pseudonym “Albrecht” (a direct reference to Albrecht Dürer and Pforr’s admiration for the Northern Renaissance) for the short story. The book became a pet project of Pforr and close friend and fellow painter, Friedrich Overbeck. The allegory of Shulamith and Maria is primarily about the importance of faithful Christian morals as related to the arts; Shulamith and Maria are sisters cast as allegorical representatives of Northern and Southern regions, and are married off to two traveling craftsmen (Overbeck and Pforr) who are traveling in order to preach the importance of their art. Shulamith is characterized by her dark beauty and her connection to an overflowing garden of paradise while her sister Maria is pious, shy, and reserved.55 While these characteristics are simplified and at times stereotypical, they nevertheless have been translated into resonant visual images—as part of this correspondence and novel project, Overbeck and Pforr also created paintings to illustrate the allegory as gifts to each other. Overbeck’s Italia und Germania of 1828 exemplifies                                                                                                                55 Shulamith is a direct reference to the Shulamite woman of the Song of Songs text in the Old Testament of the Hebrew Bible. 1 Kings 1:1-4, 15, 2:17-22. 26   this allegorical style through its depiction of two national ideal figures and picturing their attributes in the landscape—Germania takes Italia’s hand in the foreground and the background is split between a Roman monastery nestled in the hills on the left and a quiet Northern town with a church spire on the right (fig. 16). Overbeck’s own correspondence highlights this cultural relationship best in a letter from 1829 describing the “yearning…that constantly pulls the north toward the south, the yearning for its art, its nature, its poetry…”56 This cultural phenomenon of intellectual yearning translates directly to the spa experience through the repetitive use of Roman architecture in the resort areas of Bohemia. Spa architecture here mimics that which is Zivilisiert, or foreign, sophisticated, and fashionable, through its use of traditional column and pediment structures. These images are preserved in decorated spa glassware in a contradictory way: while the physical architecture of the spas reaches toward southern Europe, the landscape imagery used to decorate glass spa souvenirs is firmly “Bohemian”—this decoration uses visual tropes, such as the Hirschensprung and mountain vistas or hunting scenes, to evoke this sense of regional character. This notion of cultivation is related to spa resorts as havens of cultural development in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Sometimes referred to as “the salons of Europe”57 in the nineteenth century, spa cities like Marienbad and Karlsbad were imbued with specific locational identities related to the arts and culture realm.                                                                                                                56 “Es ist endlich…die Sehnsucht gemeint, die den Norden beständig zum Süden hinzieht, nach seiner Kunst, seiner Natur, seiner Poesie.” Quoted in “Friedrich Overbeck, Italia und Germania (1811-1828),” German History Documents, http://germanhistorydocs.ghi-dc.org/sub_image.cfm?image_id=2638 (accessed December 13, 2012). 57 Nový and Havlíčková, 36. 27   Within these pavilions, there were also separate architectural structures that framed the spring itself and allowed it to pool in a basin for guests’ use. These fountain structures often employ a pastiche of elements from Gothic architecture including rosette forms, tracery, high pointed arches, in addition to the classical column and pediment form. The coexistence of designs drawing from historical styles aligns closely with Winand’s visual interpretation of coastal resorts, and demonstrates a longing for the past that is particularly part of the German public consciousness in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The temple space from Greek and Roman antiquity is strongly associated with the cultural richness of the Italian Renaissance in German discourse during this period. Philip Schlegel, a vicar writing in the early nineteenth century expressively describes this cultural interest: …A silent, deep longing began to creep into my soul, rushing over mountains and country, and what my glowing imagination could carry into a magical distance on the light wings of hope, now, had the idea and desire set in my mind: Only to see the southern countries, and see among them the beautiful and avowed Italy before all others.58 The temple form heightens the sacredness surrounding the action, and denotes a more personal experience: the smaller pavilions, like the Waldquelle and Carolinenbrunnen in Karlsbad, were set apart from the crowded promenade of the hotel. Tucked into forested hills, these fountains were often secluded and their intimate locations prompted visitors draw their own water along their daily walk through the park. A Kurgast must enter a temple-like space to drink the restorative waters; to many religious visitors in this region, this was evocative of the sanctified water used in the ritual of spiritual cleansing upon entering a church or associated with purification rites in the Jewish faith. Spa guests of                                                                                                                58 Hubertus Kohle, (lecture). 28   the late nineteenth century encompassed Protestant, Catholic, and Jewish faiths—many entered the spa with the same objective: spiritual restoration through physical healing.59 The concepts of transformation and longing are especially important to the ritual of taking spring water—the spa-goer of the nineteenth century was seeking a change, whether through an improved physique or improved psychological attitude, or a combination of both. This notion of change is particularly applicable through the figurative concepts of transformation and longing. The religious desire for change is especially prominent in one theological example, the Catholic doctrine of Transubstantiation (in Greek, metousiosis, literally meaning change of essence or inner reality). Transubstantiation is the moment when bread and wine used in the mass service are consecrated by the priest, and so literally changed into the substance of the body and blood of Christ.60 The concept of longing in the religious sphere denotes hope for eternal salvation and preservation of the body in conjunction with the spirit. The mystical ritual of consecrating the bread and wine is metaphorically similar to taking sacred spring waters for improved health in both the corporeal and spiritual senses—Christian spa guests also visited various shrines and small chapels tucked in the landscape, and most were dedicated to the Virgin                                                                                                                59 This concept of spiritual enlightenment via bodily healing is markedly different during the early twentieth century, however. What scholar Wolfgang Kraus has termed “the Secularization of Wellness” (Säkularisierte Gesundheit”), the trend in the twentieth century shifted to a specifically secular outlook on health spas and springs discussed here, especially with the beginning of Freikörperkultur (Free-body Culture) and an interest in both health and physical fitness. See, Wolfgang Kraus, “Zur Hygiene: Eine Medizingeschichtliche Betrachtung” 95 in Lachmayer, Das Bad: Eine Geschichte der Badekultur im 19. Und 20. Jahrhundert, 95; The history of Jewish spa guests has been explored in other scholarship, namely in a 2012 issue of Visualizing and Exhibiting Jewish Space and History edited by Richard I. Cohen. This study describes the historical and cultural experiences of Jewish spa visitors and the Jewish presence at these resorts—often the spa resort acted as a respite from the traditional social ills toward European Jews during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Synagogues existed alongside Protestant and Catholic churches in the spa towns discussed here, Marienbad and Karlsbad. 60 Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2nd edition, 1375-76. 29   Mary or local saints, thus basing their rest cure on sacred (and institutionalized) experiences. These experiences were believed to provide wholeness in body and spirit much like the administration of the transubstantiated body and blood during the sacrament of holy communion literally imparts Christ (i.e., eternal salvation) to the communicant. Stifter’s reference to these spring pavilions is especially vivid in Der Waldbrunnen and highlights the sacred connotations surrounding these spaces: He showed them the great beeches and pines and maples that grew there, the mossy stones, which lay in tangles and often sparkled like green gold. He showed them the dark and sparse woodland flowers that stood in the shade, and the other herbs and leaves that were there, especially those that would grow berries—these they should delight in at a later period of the summer. He showed them the many little streams that flowed there, and led them to a forest fountain that he knew of. Among the well was a good path, because the shepherds, the timber workers, and other people took their drink there, and believed that the water was sacred and possessed special healing powers. 61 Here, the forest fountain is associated with esoteric knowledge: this is not a commercial area for taking waters, but rather a special location known only to natives. The rich imagery of the forest environment takes on a magical quality—this is a place where knowledge of nature and its offerings leads to reward and rejuvenation through the spring itself. In the second example of a footed beaker from Marienbad, the image of the Brunnentempel am Kreuzbrunnen, or Fountain Temple at the Cross-Fountain, is another                                                                                                                61 “Er zeigte ihnen die großen Buchen und Tannen und Ahorne, die da wuchsen, die bemoosten Steine, die in Mengen und in Verwirrungen umherlagen und oft wie grünes Gold funkelten, er zeigte ihnen die dunkeln und lichten Waldblumen, die im Schatten standen, und die anderen Kräuter und Blätter, die da waren, insonderheit, daran die Beeren wachsen würden, die sie in späterer Zeit des Sommers ergötzen sollten, er zeigte ihnen die vielen Wässerlein, die da rannen, und führte sie zu einem Waldbrunnen, den er wußte. Zu dem Brunnen ging ein guter Pfad, weil die Hirten, die Holzarbeiter und andere Leute ihren Trunk da holten, und glaubten, daß das Wasser heilig sei und besondere Gesundheitskräfte besitze.” Stifter, Der Waldbrunnen, 654. Author’s translation. 30   iconic example of the temple architecture used in the spa towns. In addition to the use of antique architecture, this structure also distinctly references religious themes in its very name—Cross Temple—derived from the orthodox cross perched on the cupola behind the structure. Much as the smaller shrine fountains function as signifiers for the spa and the landscape, the larger temple fountain becomes a popular motif for glassware, postcards, and lithography. In the example from the Harrach glassworks, the deep cranberry red glass is cut in a complex pattern of hexagons and medallions, with a delicately-etched depiction of the Kreuzbrunnen surrounded by violet flower garlands in purple, green, and black. Christian Spirituality and the Spa For guests visiting spas in the early to mid-nineteenth century in the Spa Triangle of Western Bohemia, the actual experience of the visit and its curing promises take on a ritualistic, somewhat mystical meaning. Chapter One’s focus on Goethe’s spa memories relates to a deeper understanding of the spa as a physical environment in this case. Literary historian Irmgard Wagner crystalizes the interpretation of Goethe’s extensive holidays in the spa region by addressing the metaphysical aspects of the spa as “a festival site… a place exempt from [and] outside of everyday life.“62 The concepts of ritual and communal festivals are noteworthy in relation to the mug’s function as a bearer of the mysteriously restorative mineral waters within the spa. The spa mug’s role in this ceremonial or transcendental experience of “curing” deepens its symbolism as an emblem of the craftsmanship of the Bohemian region. Because of glass’s basic construction                                                                                                                62 Irmgard Wagner, “Goethe’s Bohemian Traces or: Marienbad Mirrorings,” Modern Language Studies 31, no. 1 (Spring 2001): 151. 31   entirely from mineral former, flux, and stabilizing agents it also acts as a tangible link between the realms of the physical and the otherworldly.63 Glass as a tangible transformation of base minerals into valued materials is, at its base, an alchemical miracle: the essential change, or metousiosis, of the partial to the fulfilled whole. The glass is at once an item of functionality within the quotidian maintenance of a spa hotel, yet also a vessel capable of delivering mystical healing waters to ailing guests. The mug takes on a twofold, self-reflexive quality—its imitative decoration highlights a regional tradition in luxury glassmaking, and its chemical properties reference the balneological benefits of the Bohemian spa triangle. A range of souvenir glassware produced by Harrach uses religious motifs for its decoration, directly referencing the religious associations with water itself as both cleansing and restorative. In two examples from Muzeum Skla a Bizuterie—one depicting Christ as the “Man of Sorrows” and one depicting St. Teresa of Ávila—mystical experiences, pain, and physical restoration are prominent decorative themes (figs. 17 and 18). The St. Teresa example is a colorless footed beaker form cased in opaque white glass and cut to clear with gold enamel.64 Enamel painting on a central medallion depicts St. Teresa in a rather staid posture with her nun’s habit neatly in place, and hands folded in a gesture of piety. St. Teresa’s story is perhaps more prominently                                                                                                                63 In most cases these components are, respectively, silica (silicon dioxide, i.e., sand), sodium or potassium carbonate (soda or potash), and calcium carbonate (calcined limestone). See, Corning Museum of Glass Dictionary, s.v.v, “silica,” “potash,” and “calcium carbonate,” http://www.cmog.org/research/glass-dictionary/a (accessed January 1, 2011). 64 “Cut to clear” is a glass term referring to the layering of different colors in one piece. This was a type of decoration involving colorless glass cased (or covered) in as many as 5 or 6 different types of colored glass in the hotworking process. In the coldworking process, the piece would then be cut using a copper wheel engraving process to reveal the many layers of color in decorative patterns. Thus “cut to clear” became a manufactory term for wares that involve many layers of colored glass that are cut to show their clear bottom layer. See Appendix A for a complete description of all glassmaking terminology. 32   featured in the Italian Baroque context, where Gian Lorenzo Bernini manipulates her expression, famously frozen in an infinite pose of sensual and devotional ecstasy as she experiences the fire of God during her vision of an angel (fig. 19). In her memoir, St. Teresa’s metaphysical experience of this vision is especially highlighted: “The pain is not bodily, but spiritual; though the body has its share in it, even a large one.”65 This image of St. Teresa on the spa beaker is admittedly simplified and less emotive, but it still directly references the same narrative of intense spiritual renewal through suffering and the metaphysical world. The sale of religious-themed glassware takes on more nuanced meaning than the usual topographical souvenir: it references the narrative of the saint, while also signifying Marienbad’s own religious narrative as a location bearing curative waters and promising improved physical health. The engraved depiction of Christ as the Man of Sorrows similarly channels metaphysical pain and spiritual renewal through its decoration (fig. 18). The image of the Man of Sorrows, or Schmerzensmann, a figure in the Hebrew Bible who prefigures Christ, is often depicted with the wounds of the Crucifixion.66 This figure references the ultimate salvation connected with the Christ’s execution, and the association of bodily torture endured for the reward of eternal life, as seen with the Catholic tradition of martyred saints, and the pre-Lenten narrative of Christ’s 40 days in the desert, where he experienced hunger, thirst, and temptation by Satan.67 The biblical reference to the Schmerzensmann further elucidates why his presence on a spa goblet is                                                                                                                65 Teresa of Ávila, David Lewis, trans., The Life of Saint Teresa of Jesus of the Order of Our Lady of Carmel (London: Thomas Baker, 1904), 233. 66 Gert von der Osten, Der Schmerzensmann: Typengeschichte eines Andachtsbildwerkes 1300 bis 1600 (Berlin: Deutscher Verein für Kunstwissenschaft, 1935), 7. 67 Luke 4:2 (New Revised Standard Edition). 33   laden with sacred meaning: “…He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that made us whole, and with his stripes we are healed.”68 Transposing this idea of salvation into a decorative motif invokes the notion of bodily suffering in the above discussion of Catholic doctrine, as well as the belief in physical suffering (and sometimes corporeal torture) as a precursor to a salutary reward. The goblet shows a face encircled by a crown of thorns, slack with agony, gazing up to heaven. Probably a presentation piece, this spa goblet is an example of the intense devotional experience many spa-goers sought from their visit to Northern Bohemia. In many cases, devotional cups commemorating pilgrimage or miracle sites were also produced. The spiritual is also present in the spa’s embrace of the natural landscape as a purveyor of fresh air and picturesque vistas. This is heightened by the presence of small shrines dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary or the Crucifixion that often dot the mountainous trails where guests would stroll and breathe in pine-scented air. Two examples of presentation glassware in the collection of Muzeum Skla a Bizuterie depict the crowned Blessed Virgin Mary, with the Christ child ascending to heaven, or the Blessed Virgin as Mary Queen of Heaven (enthroned on a horizontal crescent moon) (figs. 20 and 21). These souvenirs take on a dual narrative: they embody the larger context of the biblical narrative surrounding a saint’s history as well as the more personal history of the glass’s purchaser—perhaps denoting their religious devotion or physical/spiritual renewal experienced while taking the cure. The spiritual or religious aspect of the spa experience is also related to the resort’s architectural elements and the portrayal of architecture on spa glassware. The imagery of                                                                                                                68 Isaiah 53:5 (NRSE). 34   the temple architecture coupled with its ceremonial beaker form place this cup firmly in the realm of ritual. The red glass is simultaneously a referent to the development of Ruby Glass in eighteenth century Germany, while also demonstrating new Bohemian glass chemistry developments that allowed for Ruby glass to be created through copper alloy recipes rather than using gold, as was the practice in the eighteenth century.69 The chemical makeup of the glass references roots in both the German and Bohemian spheres. Because this glass is both commemorative and functional, it communicates a multifaceted narrative: if used as a presentation piece it symbolizes the guest’s experience in addition to the spa itself; if used as a gift it legitimizes a sense of authenticity associated with the possessor’s experience. Local Identity in Romanticism and the Twentieth Century The use of the drinking glasses at Bohemian spas projects a functional capability beyond the cup’s basic use: the cup is a manmade link used to assuage the guest’s corporeal and psychological ailments. Narrative themes of sacred ritual and the medicinal magic of specific environments recur in the objects discussed above, and represent the diverse iconographical and theoretical interpretations that spa glassware can elicit. The prominence of Catholic presence at the spa relates to mystical associations with the region, and a heightened sense of renewed spirituality sought after during the curing process.                                                                                                                69 Ruby glass is achieved by adding specific amounts of gold chloride to the batch of glass, and Johann Kunckel, a chemist working in Potsdam in the late seventeenth century, is credited with perfecting this process. The luxury inherent in this process speaks not only of elitism, but also a sense of nationalism often associated with technical innovations, especially in the glassmaking industry. Later in the nineteenth century, this type of glass could be produced in less expensive ways with copper alloys. See, Peter Rath, Lobmeyr 1823: Helles Glas und Klares Licht, Vienna: Böhlau, 1998, and Dedo von Kerssenbrock-Krosigk, ed. Glass of the Alchemists: Lead Crystal - Gold Ruby, 1650-1750 (Corning, NY: Corning Museum of Glass, 2008. 35   Both physical and cultural landscapes are illuminated by the fictional writings of Adalbert Stifter and Franz Pforr, showing a complicated interplay between cultural conceptions of Northern and Southern Europe that also bled into Central regions. As communicators of specific concepts of psychological and physical spaces in nineteenth-century Central Europe, the Marienbad and Karlsbad cups embody cultural characteristics unique to their place of production. The prominence of commemorative objects in the context of nineteenth-century Bohemia and Germany delineates the dual function of presentation and souvenir pieces. With these abstract interpretations in mind, I now interpret spa glassware as carriers of a heightened commemorative experience: these objects embody the landscape through their chemical configuration in addition to their mimetic representations of architecture and nature, ultimately alluding to distinctive views of Bohemian and German local space and identity. These concepts of cultural and local identity are developed in the final chapter by using Thomas Mann’s literary portrayals of the early-twentieth century sanatorium as a case study for analyzing the spa as a microcosm of Central European social and political struggle.                 36   Chapter Three Portrayals of Central European Spas: Glass and Nationalism in the Early Twentieth Century A human being lives out not only his personal life as an individual, but also, consciously or subconsciously, the lives of his epoch and contemporaries.70 In order to provide a richer picture of the spa and sanatorium experience, this chapter discusses the surroundings of the sanatorium in two ways: first, with a focus on both the sanatorium environment and themes of cultural memory in important literary examples by Thomas Mann, and second, with an application of this cultural memory theory to Bohemian spa glass examples. I have chosen Mann’s work because of the resonating cultural critiques his writings have elicited well into the twenty-first century among scholars of literature, German Studies, and Central European culture.71 My aim is to view Mann as a keen observer of social and cultural tendencies in this region, and as a guide through the twentieth-century sanatorium experience. These literary examples will give life to the theoretical concepts of cultural and national identities in Central Europe during the early twentieth century. Thomas Mann’s treatment of this subject in two case studies, Der Zauberberg (The Magic Mountain) and Tristan, captures a widespread struggle for Central European identity through sociopolitical themes, the relationship between nature and the self, and the notion of a twentieth-century utopian culture communicated through dialogue and interior design. Period discourses on glass as a futuristic material also point to new ideas of modernism, and relate to Mann’s treatment of modernist and historicist architectural styles.                                                                                                                70 Thomas Mann, John E. Woods, trans., Der Zauberberg (New York: Vintage, 1996), 31. 71 Der Zauberberg is largely understood by literature scholars to be a fictional embodiment of both the sociopolitical Zeitgeist of early-twentieth century Germany as well as the larger social and cultural tensions running through pre-World War I Europe. 37   Der Zauberberg is constructed around German bourgeois Hans Castorp’s extended visit to, the Berghof, a Swiss sanatorium in Davos. Based on the contemporary Hotel Schatzalp, the Berghof is the novel’s point of orientation as a medium between the reality of the world outside of the mountains (called the “flatlands” by the narrator and characters) and the ominous, majestic landscape of the Swiss Alps. Set in the years preceding World War I, the plot follows Castorp’s daily existence through painstakingly described everyday routines. Through these routines the reader is introduced to Castorp’s military cousin Joachim Ziemmsen (whose treatment at the Berghof first compels Castorp to visit), fellow patients, a romantic interest (Russian patient Clavdia Chauchat), and the sanatorium’s doctors and nurses. Mann’s technique of pitting opposing character types against one another is a primary form of character explication, and leads the reader through a large cast people of different nationalities, creeds, and economic backgrounds—in essence, a microcosm of Central European society. Pivotal to my discussion are those who engage in intellectual debates throughout the novel and discuss the sociopolitical issues most germane to Central European culture at this time. Lodovico Settembrini and Leo Naphta are two such opposites that act as philosophical sparring partners and mentors to Castorp. Settembrini, an Italian encyclopedist and historian, and Naphta, a Polish Jew converted to the Spanish strain of Jesuit Catholicism, constantly argue with each other and Castorp as a way of crystallizing the sociopolitical debates on totalitarianism, communism, and religion going on in Central Europe at this time. The novel begins to question the dichotomies of east/west and historicism/modernity through these characters, and points to a deeper question of German identity on both the personal and political levels. The sanatorium is a neutral platform for these debates: it functions as 38   a liminal space between the “flatlands” and death. The sanatorium is so far removed from everyday life that heated political and social arguments normally discussed in momentary newspaper clippings are freely dissected over days, weeks, or even years. Mann began this literary meditation on social and cultural identity in the novella Tristan published in 1904, nearly twenty years before Der Zauberberg. Tristan’s plot is also focused on a sanatorium experience, in this case the fictional Sanatorium Einfried. The story follows the poetic rise and fall of the aesthete novelist Detlev Spinell as he yearns for the delicate, artistic Gabriele, wife of an obnoxious Northern German bourgeois merchant, Herr Klöterjahn. The climax involves an impassioned letter of confession and defiance from Spinell to Klöterjahn, who then confronts the emotional poet and squelches his romantic ideals. As with Der Zauberberg, the sanatorium in Tristan is a stage for dichotomous players to act out sociopolitical themes and questions of psychological interiority in early-twentieth century Central Europe. The prominent role played by Empire style interior décor in Tristan is striking because it overlaps with aspects of early-nineteenth century Biedermeier culture, and points to a Biedermeier revival in the twentieth century. Biedermeier, a term coined in the early twentieth century to describe the prevalent style and ethos from ca. 1815-1848 in Central Europe, has only recently been analyzed as a separate movement from Empire style decoration, or Neoclassicism indebted to the French decorative arts of Louis XIV.72 In the novel, the two styles overlap, expressing dual ideological underpinnings: simplicity of form and purity of color, in addition to hygienic spaces. Spinell’s historicist bedroom décor is the frame for healing and recuperation in both literal and figurative ways. For Mann, the interior contributes to a satirical plot woven around typical characters of                                                                                                                72 Ottomeyer, ed., Biedermeier: The Invention of Simplicity, 32-40. 39   bourgeois society: the melancholy poet and the robust military figures especially highlight the changing cultural winds in the Central European social and political sphere. This theme is expanded in Der Zauberberg through lengthy debates between characters that explore the dichotomy between liberal and conservative views, especially in terms of humanism and jingoist policies at the start of the twentieth century. An active discourse between characters directly relates to an association with specifically Renaissance thinking and classical antiquity. Mann’s tactics here are often termed as a type of “Renaissance-ism” (Renaissanceismus) by literary scholars, implicating the style as a mode of exploring the past via the present.73 For Mann, the Italian Renaissance is a springboard for exploring the human condition in Central Europe, and is linked to the Northern fascination with Southern cultural development.74 As extensions of the overall curing experience, the utilitarian and souvenir spa glassware produced in Bohemia at this time are tangible links to their time and place. Much as temporality and nature become central to Castorp’s experience and self-development at the sanatorium, so too are the glassware examples discussed in Chapter Two imbued with meaning via a temporal narrative associated with cultural memory. This final section will take examples of decorative glass cups made in the spa region and read them through the lens of cultural memory and Synthetism, an aesthetic theory developed by Czech author and literary theorist, Frantisek Salda, that focuses on the essential meaning of designed environments.                                                                                                                73 Gerd Uekermann, Renaissanceismus und Fin de Siècle: Die Italienische Renaissance in der Deutschen Dramatik der Letzten Jahrhundertwende (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1985), 3-7. 74 As discussed, in Chapter Two, Italiensehnsucht is a key concept to this interpretation. The Northern interest in Southern ideology and cultural history is focused through a literary lens rather than a visual one in this case. 40   The Spa as Microcosm: Cultural and Nationalist Projections on Der Zauberberg Mann’s perceptions of spa society, described through health regimens, personal interactions, and the natural environment of the Alps, were all drawn from his own experiences visiting his wife Katia in Davos in 1912. These examples of the sanatorium experience can therefore be viewed as deeply connected to primary accounts—the novel distills Mann’s own time spent at Davos, while also acting as a Bildungsroman about the modern German State itself.75 This idea of a national Bildungsroman, or collective psychological portrait, is best explained via traditional German folk and classical music referenced at the end of Der Zauberberg. As it traces the rise of Hans Castorp from his childhood to bourgeois gentleman to his decline and, finally, death as a common soldier, the novel becomes an elegy to German notions of nationalist identity. Most importantly, when Castorp, the essential mediocre citizen, meets his death in the chaos of the trenches, he absentmindedly hums a section of “Der Lindenbaum” from Franz Schubert’s Winterreise (Winter Journey) song cycle published in 1828 at the height of the Biedermeier era. This might appear a minor detail, but it is symbolically essential to understanding the experience of the Berghof (and later sanatorium Einfried in Tristan) as a vacuum in which political and cultural themes are heightened because of their distance from reality. The unification of German States occurred in 1871 under Otto von Bismarck, but notions of a German national identity existed prior to this event, most notably during the Congress of Vienna in 1814-15, when Austria was granted full dominance in the Austro-Hungarian Empire while Prussia and smaller states remained fragmented. Even though                                                                                                                75 A Bildungsroman is often a psychological portrait or coming of age novel that traces the social and moral development of an individual protagonist from youth to adulthood. 41   this era was characterized by a general turn inward of social and cultural practices (a focus on the family, personal representation, and the simplicity of bourgeois culture), the desire for and exploration of a new, unified German State was still inherently part of the zeitgeist percolating during the Biedermeier period, generally gauged from 1815-1848.76 As an author concerned with the portrayal of the everyday and capturing the essence of nineteenth-century bourgeois culture as it dissolved into twentieth-century modernism, Mann also utilized historically oriented classical discourse and cultural ideals to flesh out his rendering of the “magic mountain” atmosphere. By referencing Schubert as a cultural touchstone for Castorp, Mann demonstrates that this notion of German national identity is expressed through a harking back to a previous era.77 Schubert’s own melding of folk and classical themes in his piano compositions further highlights this cultural implication, and that “despite [Castorp’s] isolation from the world ‘down below’ because of his stay at the Berghof, [he] is still very explicitly implicated in a community of desire and nationalism.”78 This community is inherently connected to the sanatorium experience as an illustration of anxieties, both personal and national. Mann’s explication of this community hinges on the display of opposites and foil characters. These main characters are rounded out by smaller supporting roles: Behrens, the head doctor, various nurses, socialites, and patients—all from different parts of Europe and at varying levels of health. Lodovico Settembrini and Leo Naphta are one such paradoxical character pairing that is representative of diverging perspectives on                                                                                                                76 Ottomeyer, ed., ibid. 77 This longing for the past is likewise featured in Franz Pforr and Friedrich Overbeck’s biblical Renaissance-themed allegory, Das Buch Shulamith und Maria in Chapter Two, especially with a focus on Renaissance culture in Northern and Southern Europe. 78 Joseph Acquisto, “Music, Desire, and Death in The Magic Mountain,” Rodopi Perspectives on Modern Literature 25 (April 2002): 15. 42   morality and culture. Settembrini, considered a secular humanist by Castorp, is characterized by his focus on the virtues associated with the Italian Renaissance—enlightenment, rational argumentation, progressive politics. His opinions also adopt a libertarian stance in contrast with Naphta’s Jesuit zeal and support of monarchical government structures. Their dialectic relationship functions as an allegory for the larger sociocultural topics at stake in the years leading up to World War I, especially the question of German military support for Austria. Germany’s relatively silent political stance on these issues also mirrors the novel’s apprehension of relationships grounded in the cultural differences between East and West. In contrast to Settembrini’s “Western” mentality, Naphta’s characterization hinges on “the forces of the Church, of the Order, of radical commitment and terror, of revolution and rejection of compromise.”79 Their discussions are written in the style of classical dialogues (Plato’s Apology and The Republic, for example), so that characters are pitted against each other in prolonged debate, each detailing their respective opinions without interruption.80 The explication of character traits exists mostly in this style of conversation—Mann rarely describes characters and their backgrounds or personalities outright, but defers instead to staged dialogue to highlight differences—both cultural and political. The Kurgeselleschaft (spa society) within this novel is composed of individuals from mostly upper-class positions in society, with a few exceptions. Settembrini hails from a relatively modest financial background demonstrated by his lack of material wealth (and limited wardrobe), yet retains a sense of refined taste. In contrast, Castorp                                                                                                                79 Johannes A. Gaertner, “Dialectic Thought in Thomas Mann’s The Magic Mountain,” The German Quarterly 38, no. 4 (November 1965): 615. 80 Ibid. 43   and his cousin Joachim Ziemssen are of a wealthier bourgeois social stratum—one in which the possibility of extending a three-week curing vacation into a seven-year stay is a reality. Madame Clavdia Chauchat, a Russian patient and Castorp’s romantic interest, likewise represents the dialectic of East and West—Castorp likens her to a childhood acquaintance of Eastern European descent, and physical descriptions of her face and body verge on ethnic profiling (uniquely slanted eyes are a recurring theme). By casting Madame Chauchat as inherently “other” (foreign or exotic), Mann demonstrates how the cultural tensions of the sanatorium were also the same issues bubbling to the surface in pre-World War I Central Europe. This tension is exemplified in Settembrini’s prescient warning to Castorp about rising political tension: Decisions must be made—decisions of incalculable significance for the future happiness of Europe, and your country will have to make them, they must come to fruition within its soul. Positioned between East and West, it will have to choose…between the two spheres vying for its heart. You are young, you will take part in this decision… let us bless the fates… that have given me the opportunity to... make you aware of the responsibility that you and your country bear, while the civilized world looks on.81 This dramatic call to civic responsibility reminds the reader that Castorp’s native Germany is a key player in the political events leading up to and surrounding World War I; the otherworldliness and isolation of the mountain atmosphere often obscures this reality. Settembrini’s lecture grounds the reader by underscoring the imminence of Mann’s “flatland” (i.e., the world outside of the mountain sanatorium) and the harsh reality of war, all through a grave measure of nationalist accountability. The opposition between “East and West” is framed in multilayered relationships between people and places: the battles of existential interpretation between Settembrini and Naphta; Castorp the civilian contrasted with Ziemmsen the soldier; and, finally, monumentally, the                                                                                                                81 Mann, Der Zauberberg, 508. 44   suspended temporality of the sanatorium mountainscape vis à vis the linear temporality of the plains, the vastness of “down there.”82 Exploring Identity: The Alpine Landscape and Sanatorium Objects The importance of temporality and spatial atmosphere in Der Zauberberg has been discussed at length in studies on Thomas Mann’s writings, most notably as a motif for exploring personal existence.83 Temporality, and especially the lack of a defined sense of time, is integral to Castorp’s exploration of his individual identity. The timelessness of the landscape is opposed to the inherently historicized design of the sanatorium. As Mann scholar Nancy P. Nenno has succinctly posited in her research, the Alpine landscape surrounding Davos-Platz is a blank slate upon which both sociopolitical views and self-identity are projected. Here, time is all encompassing for the sanatorium patient: There are situations in life on earth, or circumstances of landscape (if one can speak of “landscape” in this case), in which a confusion and obliteration of temporal and spatial distances, ending in total dizzying monotony, is more or less natural and legitimate, so that immersion into its magic during a vacation, for instance, might likewise be considered legitimate. …We assume that our reader’s experiences and memories will join us as we expand on this marvelous state of lostness. You walk and walk, and you never get back home on time, because you are lost to time and it to you.84 As a patient on an essentially permanent vacation at the sanatorium, Castorp must navigate this type of lost time. His personal development hinges on an apprehension of his own mortality (and thus, an introspective acknowledgement of self-identity). This is                                                                                                                82 Ibid. 83 Peter Pütz, Das Sanatorium als Purgatorium and Christian Virchow, Das Sanatorium als Lebensform. Über einschlägige Erfahrungen Thomas Manns, vol. 26 of Thomas Mann Studien: Literatur und Krankheit im Fin-de-Siècle (1890-1914), Thomas Sprecher, ed. (Frankfurt am Main: Klostermann, 2002). 84 Mann, Der Zauberberg, 536. 45   achieved through engagement with the natural landscape and through medical treatments. The uncanny tension surrounding modern medical developments like the x-ray is especially important to this existentialist narrative: Once again the director peered through the milky pane, but this time into Hans Castorp’s interior… Under that light, [Hans] saw the process of corruption anticipated, saw the flesh in which he moved decomposed, expunged, dissolved into airy nothingness—and inside was the delicately turned skeleton of his right hand… With penetrating, clairvoyant eyes he beheld a familiar part of his body, and for the first time in his life he understood that he would die.85 Castorp later keeps a glass x-ray of his romantic interest Madame Chauchat after she leaves the Berghof. The x-ray diapositive involves an image photographed onto two glass plates (fig. 22).86 It is both a technological feat of modern medicine while also a display of the imperfections of the individual’s body: the image is literally an interior portrait. The uncanniness of Castorp’s x-ray experience stems from a common experience when one’s physical body seems familiar and part of the “self,” but suddenly becomes shrouded in a new layer of mystery or strangeness stemming from new knowledge; in Freudian psychology, this feeling of the unheimlich or uncanny is often attributed to the individual’s inability to come to terms with new self knowledge, in this case Castorp’s vision of his own skeletal hand.87 The use of industrially produced pane glass for these types of early x-rays is noteworthy as an extension of early twentieth century theories of glass as a signifier of transparency, clarity, and utopian progress.88 While theories on                                                                                                                85 Ibid., 216. 86 See, fig. 22, a diapositive x-ray image of the hand of Mrs. Wilhelm Roentgen, wife of the inventor of radiology taken in 1895. 87 Sigmund Freud, “Das Unheimliche,” Imago. Zeitschrift für Anwendung der Psychoanalyse auf die Geisteswissenschaften 5, (1919): 297–324. 88 Rosemarie Haag Bletter, “The Interpretation of the Glass Dream-Expressionist Architecture and the History of the Crystal Metaphor,” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 46   glass espoused by Central European architects and critics such as Paul Scheerbart, Sigfried Giedion, and Walter Benjamin all focus on modernist glass architecture, their ideas are nevertheless still applicable to Mann’s x-ray. Scheerbart’s 1914 text Glasarchitektur outlines the notion of glass as the ultimate futuristic and utopian construction material, and directly references diapositive photography: We are not at the end of a cultural period—but at the beginning. We still have extraordinary marvels to expect from technology and chemistry, which should not be forgotten. This ought to give us constant encouragement and strength. Unsplinterable glass should be mentioned here, in which a celluloid sheet is placed between two sheets of glass and binds them together.89 Scheerbart’s utopian rhetoric magnifies the diapositive to be a modernist symbol of rational technology’s ability to not only predict illness but also to visualize and encapsulate it through innovations in glass production. In this context, Scheerbart’s language suggests a prescriptive power of glass when used in the realms of art, industry and science: namely, glass in this context will promote strength and well-being on a cultural level. Castorp’s x-ray also signifies the tension surrounding burgeoning modern technology in the early twentieth century: the image retains a magic quality by revealing the innermost reaches of a person’s body, and as a result, anticipates the finality of their imminent mortality. Mann’s treatment of the glass x-ray is laden with psychological meaning in this context, especially for Castorp—he pointedly keeps the image on a display easel in his room as a modernist shrine to his feelings for Madame Chauchat. Chauchat is characterized by her “Eastern” features, described by Mann as “hyperborean”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          40, no. 1 (March 1981): 31. 89 “Wir stehen nicht am Ende einer Kulturperiode—sondern am Anfange einer solchen. Wir haben von Technik und Chemie noch ganz besondere Wunderdinge zu erwarten… Es sollte uns immer wieder mutig machen. Das nicht splitternde Glas waere hier zu erwaehnen, in dem sich zwischen zwei Glasplatten eine Zelluloidplatte mit diesen verbindet.” Paul Scheerbart and Bruno Taut, Dennis Sharp, trans., Glasarchitektur und Alpine Architektur (New York: Praeger, 1972), 126. 47   and “epicanthic,” or, a mix of Western blonde features with Eastern ethnic qualities.90 Her role as a signifier for the desirable, exotic Eastern culture mirrors the western interest in the Bohemian spas at Karlsbad and Marienbad discussed in Chapter Two. Here, a period understanding of a “Bohemian” person hinges on their “secession from conventionality in art and life,” correlating to the spa experience as an escape from the everyday and a place for self-discovery.91 The notion of an escape is important to Castorp’s interest in Chauchat—she is symbolic of the ambivalence coloring the Central European atmosphere. She eventually becomes a nurturing source of sexual satisfaction for Castorp, while also providing him with the dangerous impetus to stay at the Berghof regardless of his actual physical state, and, importantly, this allows Castorp to continue ignoring the increasingly dire political developments that ultimately result in his demise. Castorp’s encounter with his own mortality in the x-ray room and his subsequent souvenir of Madame Chauchat’s “interior portrait,” is followed by another confrontation of his self conception through the Swiss peaks that correlates to the ominous blue grotto Adalbert Stifter’s children seek out in Bergkristall.92 The “Snow” chapter, in which Castorp skis through the surrounding Alps one especially snowy winter, is the most evocative passage about his engagement with the natural environment surrounding the sanatorium. The forbidding quality of the landscape and the danger associated with its mountain peaks is coupled with a profound opportunity to experience the sublime in nature:                                                                                                                90 Mann, Der Zauberberg, 75; 326. 91 Westminster Review 1862, s.v. “Bohemian,” http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?term=bohemian (accessed October 1, 2012). 92 See, Chapter Two, page four, for the ominous blue grotto scene in Bergkristall and its relationship to the concept of the sublime in nature. 48   …from his lounge chair he had observed fog-shrouded mountains, the dance of snowstorms, and in his soul had been ashamed of gaping at it from across the breastwork of comfort. And if there was something uncanny about the enormity of the snowing, deadly silence— and as a child of civilization he most certainly felt there was—both his intellect and senses had long ago tasted of the uncanniness up here.93 Here, the landscape acts as a vehicle for timeless self-exploration, especially through the reference to a primordial, ahistorical experience of nature and Castorp’s notion of himself as a “child of civilization,” and more importantly, a part of a collective consciousness. This portrayal of the landscape as a blank canvas upon which individuals can project their existential self discovery is related to Stifter’s treatment of the Bohemian mountains in Der Waldbrunnen as it acts a meditative space: allowing for exploration of both space and the self.94 Mann’s portrayal retains similar romantic images of the mountains as uncanny and forbidding environments, relating snow and crystal imagery to personal transformation and self-discovery. The “Snow” chapter also points to a seeming contradiction surrounding the sanatorium’s dual personality as both a recreational resort and regimented therapeutic institution. This coexistence mirrors the tension of simultaneously modernist and historicist perspectives of the spa as a constructed environment—a friction of ideals that is heightened by taking a closer look at sanatorium interiors and architectural design during the early twentieth century. A concrete example of this overlap between modernist and historicist ideals is embodied by a ceramic spa mug dated from the 1920s that likely would have been used in the context of the Bohemian sanatorium or spa at the time of Mann’s writing (fig. 23). The cup’s bulbous body and smaller opening are executed in white porcelain with painted floral patterns gilding akin to Rococo C- and S-scrolls or shell motifs. The gilded handle                                                                                                                93 Mann, Der Zauberberg, 468. 49   of the cup is likewise decorated with delicately filigreed edges that accentuate the gold highlights of the floral decoration. At a quick glance, this spa cup would seem the epitome of revivalist styles—almost a trite representation of Rococo decorative motifs, the cup would appear to fit more comfortably in an Empire-style drawing room than a twentieth-century sanatorium. However, closer inspection of the cup shows its true design-conscious configuration: the opulent gold handle is not used just to grasp the cup; its hollow construction acts instead as a drinking straw for the user while the small mouth opening purposefully maintains a regulated temperature for the curative mineral waters contained by the vessel. Balneological studies at the turn of the century show that drinking naturally warm spring waters had a beneficial effect on gastrointestinal and nervous disorders, prompting the production of utilitarian spa cups to develop a design like this Rococo revival example.95 In keeping with these theories, the user would drink the water from the bottom of the cup rather than the vessel’s opening in order to get the maximum effects of the warm water.96 The spa cup takes on the theoretical task of mediating experiences to the user, especially via the dual function of the handle. The Rococo spa mug in this case is similar to what sociologist and aesthetic theorist Georg Simmel has called a “mediating bridge,” especially because the “pliable joining of hand with bowl… with a palpable continuity, transmits the impulse of the soul into the bowl, into its manipulation.”97 Simmel’s interpretation focuses on the spiritual essence transmitted via objects, and is especially applicable to the spa mug’s function as a bearer                                                                                                                95 Nový and Havlíčková, 36. 96 Vladimír Křížek, Kulturgeschichte des Heilbades (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1990), 5. 97 Georg Simmel, Rudolph H. Weingartner, trans. "Der Henkel," Philosophische Kultur. Gesammelte Essays ([1911] 2nd ed.; Leipzig: Alfred Kröner, 1919), 269. 50   of healing spring water. Further, Simmel’s emphasis on the soul of the object relates to the therapeutic function of the spa mug as a literal bridge between the ailing individual and the curative waters. Not only is Simmel’s notion of the handle the primary bond between hand and object, it also bridges the gap between the external and internal as a conduit for drinking water. The cup’s essential purpose is revealed by this deeper theoretical analysis. The deconstruction of its elements denotes a multilayered relationship between the cup’s function and decoration—a relationship that is also mirrored by its surroundings within the early twentieth-century sanatorium interior. Sanatorium Interiors: Sanitized or Historicized Spaces? The decor of Einfried, the fictional sanatorium at the center of Tristan’s plot, is similarly characterized by two seemingly antithetical design movements: modernism and historicism. The opening lines of the novella describe the architectural style of the hospital: It is white and rectilinear, a long low-lying main building with a side wing, standing in a spacious garden delightfully adorned with grottoes, leafy arcades and little pavilions; and behind its slate roofs the massive pine-green mountains rear their softly outlined peaks and clefts into the sky.98 It is clear that Mann’s fictional Einfried is an example of the modernist designs propagated in neighboring areas of Austria and Germany during the early twentieth century. A noteworthy parallel example is Josef Hoffmann’s 1904-5 addition to present day Westend Sanatorium in Purkersdorf outside of Vienna, Austria. The Purkersdorf tuberculosis sanatorium and physical therapy center was constructed originally around the mineral spring Lauraquelle (Laura’s Spring). The extension was designed for a campus originally built in the mid nineteenth century; as an exemplar of the Viennese                                                                                                                98 Thomas Mann, David Luke, trans., (Death in Venice and Other Stories, New York: Bantam, 1998), 93. 51   modernist architecture, Hoffmann’s design is characterized by a rectilinear, low-lying facade executed in white reinforced concrete (figs. 24-25). As a member of the Wiener Werkstätte (Viennese Workshops), Hoffmann’s architectural style adhered to the group’s desire to unite all arts under the heading of a total work of art, or Gesamtkunstwerk; this involved coordinated architecture, decorative arts, fine arts, fashion, and often music to be used in a constructed living space. This coordination of interior and exterior can be seen with the examples of the Sanatorium dining room and a sample bedroom (figs. 25-26). The use of reinforced concrete in the façade mirrored the sanitized look of the interiors, and was considered avant-garde for the time.99 The Purkersdorf bedroom is characterized by its monochromatic color scheme and white, painted furniture. The sharp angles of the bed, desk and chair mimic the rectilinear construction of the building’s reinforced concrete façade, and suggest a sense of regularity amenable to health and physical therapy regimens in the spa context. The efficiency associated with these designs directly related to a sanitized environment, showing a desire to combat the overcrowded, dirty urban centers and foster cleanliness during the cure.100 The importance of hygienic, easy-to-clean furniture and interior surfaces is also noteworthy as a move away from the plush upholstery and fittings of nineteenth century revival styles. In Tristan, Mann addresses this contrast between simplified modernist construction and revived Empire style through Spinell’s heightened aesthetic sensibilities:                                                                                                                99 Museum für Angewandte Kunst, Vienna, Josef Hoffmann, Architecture Guide (Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2010), 95. 100 Leslie Topp, “An Architecture for Modern Nerves: Josef Hoffmann’s Purkersdorf Sanatorium,” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians, 56, no. 4 (December 1997): 414-437. 52   There are times when I simply cannot do without Empire [style], times when it is absolutely necessary to me to achieve a degree of well-being. You will appreciate that one’s state of mind when one is surrounded by voluptuously soft and luxurious furniture differs entirely from the mood inspired by the straight lines of these tables and chairs and draperies… This brightness and hardness, this cold austere simplicity, this rigorous reserve imparts its composure and dignity to the beholder: prolonged contact with it has an inwardly purifying and restoring effect on me—there is no doubt that it raises my moral tone.101 The psychological attachment of a particular mood to a certain type of room décor demonstrates the heightened role played by objects and interiors in the sanatorium, especially as ways of promoting a therapeutic environment. This extends to color theories developed in during the Biedermeier era, and suggests a telling convergence of bourgeois-oriented design with Neoclassicism. While Hoffmann’s Purkersdorf addition attempts to unify form and function, Mann’s fictional Einfried exhibits a dual stylistic personality: the interiors are decorated in an Empire style—a revivalist mode of the early-nineteenth century Biedermeier period, while the façade retains modernist white rectilinearity. Examples of interior designs for hotel rooms, dining rooms and grand halls in Swiss sanatoria and resort hotels also demonstrate this duality. One example is the Schweizerhof Hotel and Sanatorium located in Interlaken, Switzerland (figs. 27-29). Schweizerhof, designed in the 1890s, is a confluence of Empire and Biedermeier styles that avoids the modernist approach in its later additions altogether, an unusual occurrence for well-endowed resort sanatoria of that time.102 The sleeping quarters at Schweizerhof are especially useful as a comparison to the description of Spinell’s fictional bedroom. Mann describes Spinell’s room in terms of its Empire style fittings:                                                                                                                101 Mann, Tristan, 103. 102 Edward Jepson, “The Treatment of Consumption at the Davos Platz,” Correspondence (October 30, 1909): 1. 53   It was a room like all the others in Einfried, furnished in a simple and elegant period style. The massive chest of drawers had metal lion’s-head mountings; the tall pier glass was not one smooth sheet, but composed of numerous small panes framed in lead; the gleaming floor was uncarpeted and the stiff legs of the furniture seemed to extend as light shadows into its bluish, varnished surface. A large writing table stood near the window, across which the novelist had drawn a yellow curtain, presumably to make himself feel more spiritual.103 The emphasis on simplicity and elegance reflects the Biedermeier period’s focus on interior spaces as mirrors of psychological states or the inhabitant’s personality.104 Goethe’s Theory of Colors from 1810 reconsidered the mechanics and relevance of optical theory in philosophy, fine arts, and physics and was supplemented by a phenomenological study On Vision and Colors, by existentialist philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer in 1816, written in direct response to Goethe’s text.105 Goethe’s theory extended to the psychological effects of color, especially those that, he believed, possessed a “sensuously moral effect.”106 Primary colors were lauded for their purity and ability to harmonize room configurations. Applying this theory to Mann’s description, the yellow of Spinell’s curtains might well reference a sense of spirituality, since yellow was considered “the color closest to light… credited with an uplifting, mildly stimulating effect.”107 Goethe’s theory of color and its psychological impact aligns with Spinell’s emotional, aesthete personality. His characterization as a reclusive writer with a passion for poetry and, especially, music, harks back to this previous era of cultural interiority                                                                                                                103 Mann, Tristan,122. 104 Lawrence Jenkins, trans. Biedermeier: Art and Culture in Central Europe, 1815-1848 (Milan: Skira, 2001), 70. 105 Quoted in “Color Theory and Scientific Instruments” from Biedermeier: The Invention of Simplicity, 164. 106 Ibid. 107 Ibid. 54   during the Biedermeier period, when the humanities were valued and practiced in predominantly private spaces. Interlaken’s Schweizerhof sanatorium design similarly approached the differences between Biedermeier and Empire style and crystallizes these ideas through furniture design. In the bedroom, separate room functions are combined to create a space used for sleeping, sitting/entertaining, writing, and contemplation—this is a pragmatic, multipurpose space that alludes to Biedermeier practicality and simplicity. The dresser and writing desk are placed near the window for optimal lighting, and the large windows highlight the airy space with ethereal brightness. While the functionality of the room suggests the Biedermeier style, the contrasting furniture for the sitting area directly references French Neoclassicism, specifically dining chairs designed in the Louis XVI style that surround an oval table in front of the double bed frame. The double bed is noteworthy as a centerpiece of Neoclassicism and Empire style overlapping with a more Biedermeier surface aesthetic—the dual frame references French neoclassical styles from the Napoleonic era, especially with the use of a double bed in Imperial Apartments, such as in the Würzburg residence (fig. 30). While the concept is Neoclassical, the execution is more simplified in its use of opposing diagonal wood grain for decoration, understated column construction for the posts, and vaguely pediment-like forms for the headboards. This focus on the material as a form of decoration was popular during the Biedermeier era because of trade blockades, forcing craftsmen to use indigenous pine and walnut woods for furniture.108 In the period immediately following the Napoleonic Wars in Germany, trade blockades forced craftsmen to use local materials for the production of                                                                                                                108 Jenkins, ibid. 55   furniture and utilitarian wares—this limited decoration to more inherent characteristics: the grain of wood, the quality of glass, the manipulation of a simple metal surface.109 Biedermeier furniture examples show reduced forms and polished wood grain as primary decorative motifs in contrast to more highly decorative Empire style furniture with plush upholstery and carved decoration seen in the Schweizerhof bedroom (figs. 27-29). The stylistic commingling of historicism and modernism is partially related to a twentieth-century revival of the Biedermeier-era design, and a reassessment of its merits as a style focused on simplified form and function—two major concepts touted by modernist designers.110 In Tristan, this commingling of historicist and modern designs can be seen in the sanatoria interiors and exteriors. This acts as a plot device to heighten the diverging personalities and moral outlooks of Klöterjahn the businessman and Spinell the aesthete. As in Der Zauberberg, music plays a key role in the explication of characters, this time with a focus on Richard Wagner’s opera Tristan und Isolde from 1857. Spinell is the stereotypically introspective and passionate writer who finds his muse in Gabriele. The final confrontation between Klöterjahn and Spinell is humiliating: the bourgeois merchant crushes the romantic intentions of the novelist and dwarfs the general notion of aesthetic practice as trivial, outmoded, and silly. This final scene solidifies Mann’s cultural commentary on a changing social atmosphere that is both artistic and old-world while also moving forward to a more robust, vaguely militarized future (this symbolized by Gabriele’s infuriatingly robust, quintessentially Teutonic baby). Much as Der Zauberberg engages with the diverging threads of modernism and historicist culture, so too does Tristan examine the tensions surrounding the changing                                                                                                                109 Ottomeyer, ed., Biedermeier: The Invention of Simplicity, 202. 110 Ibid. 56   social atmosphere of Central Europe at the start of the twentieth century. These anxieties about self-definition, national identity, and the propagation of stereotypes all lead into a discourse surrounding cultural memory studies that, ultimately, is a mode to explore the multifaceted areas of nationalism, self-introspection, and objects as they intersect in the Central European spa. The importance of glass as a material of progress and utopian transparency leads into this final discussion of regional identity and glass objects as embodiments of a national aesthetic in early twentieth-century Central Europe. The rise of nationalist ideologies in Central Europe resulted in the dissolution of the Austro-Hungarian Empire into sovereign states with the consequences of World War I beginning in 1917. The entities to emerge from this fragmentation included modern day Austria, Hungary, Slovenia, Bosnia, Croatia, the Czech Republic, Slovakia, regions of Serbia and Romania, and smaller regions of Italy, Montenegro, Poland, and Ukraine.111 This diverse swath of ethnic regions highlights the many cultures coexisting in Central Europe at this time, and that the question of nationalism was integral to creating a political identity through culture and the arts. Nationalism is unquestionably essential to discussions of political history in this region, but I approach this topic with a focus on culture, specifically the production of glass objects, as an increasingly important factor in the solidification of a cultural memory, and by extension, a regional identity in Bohemia.   Collective Memory, Cultural Identity, and Glass Objects The notion of a collective cultural memory has been debated in psychological and sociological studies starting in the late nineteenth century, especially in relation to                                                                                                                111 See, Mark Cornwall, ed. The Last Years of Austria-Hungary (Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 2002). 57   historical preservation strategies ranging from oral and written histories to traditions and rituals passed on from generation to generation. The material objects associated with such traditions play an integral part in defining a collective memory, and by extension, defining a collective identity along with specific regional and national identities. By first delineating both the divergences and intersections between cultural memory theory’s “semantic” and “episodic” memory, I will analyze how souvenir spa glassware, with attached historical references, directly relates to cultural remembrance. The cultural memory theorist and Egyptologist, Jan Assmann, outlines these key terms in his article “Collective Memory and Cultural Identity” from 1995. Semantic memory is characterized by personal memories and the learning capabilities of the mind, while episodic memory involves purely individual experiences—such experiences “cannot be transferred from one individual to another without changing the quality of the experience through external representation.”112 Because remembered experiences are necessarily altered from person to person as well as within an individual’s consciousness over time, any external representations of commemoration are necessarily challenging to analyze in a historically objective manner. However, it is not historical accuracy that is important to this discussion of cultural memory so much as the formation of memories through collective frames of reference: these are the frames by which individuals view and act out the commemoration of events. The frame surrounding these semantic and episodic memories is clearly defined in the seminal cultural memory research conducted by cultural studies theorist Aleida Assmann:                                                                                                                112 Jan Assmann, “Collective Memory and Cultural Identity,” New German Critique 65, (Spring-Summer, 1995): 51. 58   A social frame is an implicit or explicit structure of shared concerns, values, experiences, narratives. The family, the neighborhood, the peer group, the generation, the nation, the culture are such larger groups that individuals incorporate into their identity by referring to them as “we.”113 These diverse sources of connection to both the self and society demonstrate an understanding of the past that is dependent on many different relationships and worldviews. This idea of collective memory stems, in part, from the research of French sociologist Émile Durkheim on collective consciousness conducted in the 1890s, and was further developed by his follower Maurice Halbwachs through the pivotal treatise Les cadres sociaux de la mémoire (On Collective Memory), first published in 1925.114 Halbwachs’s study is useful as an example of the period discourse on conceptions of memory and identity—themes that are also woven around Der Zauberberg (first published just one year prior in 1924). I argue that these themes of collective memory are relevant to the discussion of glass objects: this sociological interpretation is a basis for applying cultural memory theory to spa souvenirs in order to reveal their deeper symbolic role as signifiers of cultural identity. The historiography of memory is related to the various ways individuals reconstruct the past, both on personal and public levels, in order to fashion an image of the self. Halbwachs explains this process of creating self-identity through personal experiences and removed historical events: “We preserve memories of each epoch in our lives, and these are continually reproduced; through them, as by a continual relationship,                                                                                                                113 Aleida Assmann, “Transformations Between History and Memory,” Social Research 75, no. 1 (Spring 2008): 52. 114 Ibid., 54. 59   a sense of our identity is perpetuated.”115 This conception of self definition can also be extrapolated to a larger sphere; the notion of shared experiences (especially within a particular region and timeframe, such as Central Europe at the turn of the century) have a repetitive quality—these remembrances become variations on a theme by retaining aspects of individuality while also contributing to a wider spectrum of collective experiences. When Halbwachs discusses preserving the past (in the personal, public and/or institutionalized spheres) the mode of reproduction takes on varied concrete forms discussed in both Jan and Aleida Assmann’s research—oral and written histories, traditions, and rituals. This list markedly ignores objects: I argue that souvenirs and glass objects are especially indispensible to Halbwachs’s theories. Books are perhaps the most obvious form of cultural preservation, and in the context of the spa, period travel guidebooks are important to the preservation of the Bohemian region’s curative reputation. Halbwachs theorizes that books are central to the reproduction of semantic memory, especially through the process of re-reading. Revisiting a particular text triggers “an anticipation of recurrence of memories and a kind of interior rejuvenation… we believe that we can recall the mental state in which we found ourselves at the time.”116 This interior rejuvenation may be related both to fiction and nonfiction works, whether a souvenir guidebook or a novel read in childhood. Portrayals of the sanatorium in Thomas Mann’s work elevate cultural memory by disseminating what literary and cultural theorist Astrid Erll calls “collective images of the                                                                                                                115 Maurice Halbwachs, Lewis A. Coser, trans., On Collective Memory (Chicago: Chicago Univ. Press, 1992 [1925]), 46. 116 Ibid. 60   past.”117 The recurring representation of the personal and historical past in Der Zauberberg shows that repetitive patterns of writing both “stabilize” and “solidify” cultural memory, and by extension concretize a shared conception of the sanatorium as a place and an experience.118 The importance of fiction and nonfiction portrayals of curing regions is reliant also on the reproduction of significant images and rituals, and the inclusion of objects in these traditional commemorative practices. When this focus on cultural preservation through memory is consistent “[the] result [is] the establishment and consolidation of a canon that becomes relevant for the identity of the community.”119 It is this communal identity that is revealed when taking a closer look at period travel guides and souvenir glass. Guidebooks were written for the burgeoning tourism market in the nineteenth century as the middle class demographic grew and started to travel. Often written by doctors or explorers, they familiarized prospective tourists or patients with curing destinations from afar. In Eduard Hlawacek’s Guide Through Carlsbad and its Environs, the various springs, baths, and respective curative powers of each treatment are described in great detail, giving the reader a concrete view of what a typical curing process could be like in the nineteenth century. Partially an advertisement for Bohemian spas, the book is also a serious portrait of Karlsbad’s geological formations, spring configurations, city history, and industry offerings.                                                                                                                117 Adrian Velicu, “Cultural Memory Between the National and the Transnational,” Journal of Aesthetics and Culture 3, (2011): 2. 118 Ibid. 119 Ibid. 61   Hlawacek asserts that glass and ceramics are counted as historically important industries in the town, and that merchants from Prague and Vienna -- in addition to those from Karlsbad -- sell glass and ceramic souvenirs and art objects. Ludwig Moser, a Viennese merchant who opened a glass souvenir shop in 1852 and later founded his own glassworks in 1892, ran one such business enterprise. He bought semi-finished products from refineries and created custom finishes for souvenirs and gifts sold to spa visitors.120 Hlawacek notes a steadily rising number of visitors between the years of 1850 and 1880, with guests numbering as many as 20,000 per year by 1880.121 The market for Bohemian glassware souvenirs was therefore experiencing a simultaneous popularity; spa visits became more fashionable as travel options increased and made Central Europe more accessible to the European middle class.122 Much as the travel guidebook was a cultural emissary from the spa region, so too was the Bohemian souvenir glass a symbolic purveyor of Bohemian excellence in glassmaking. A souvenir cup produced by Bohemian glassmakers and sold to a British tourist, for example, would denote a sense of the owner’s fashionability when displayed in the home, and the cup would act as an external representation of the owner’s remembered past—an experience likely characterized by the physical and spiritual renewal unique to taking curative waters in Central Europe. The individual’s memory arises from his or her own personal associations with the cup or their trip to Karlsbad; however, this is combined with a larger collective memory surrounding an historical milieu—i.e., what the cup signifies as a piece of Bohemian, and by extension, Central European material culture and communal identity.                                                                                                                120 Nový and Havlíčková, 28. 121 Edward Hlawacek, Guide Through Carlsbad and its Environs (Carlsbad: Hans Feller, 1884-1887), 9. 122 Nový and Havlíčková, 32. 62   The rise of glass art and industrial commodities within the Bohemian glass industry underscores the significance of glassmaking practices in this region. Period discourses on art and design at the turn of the twentieth century directly relate to the concept of regional identity in Bohemia, and go so far as to define the Czech style in art, almost twenty years before sovereignty was granted to the former Czechoslovakian nation in 1918.123 These interpretations of “Czechness” are especially useful to further evaluate cultural identity embodied by specific styles of historicist and modernist glass objects produced in the Bohemian spa region. “Czechness” and the Bohemian Glass Industry The question of national identity (as a subcategory of cultural memory) was frequently theorized during the early twentieth century by art and design critics in both Czech and German regions. As discussed in the introduction of this project, the close proximity and overlap of Germanic and Slavic cultures in Central Europe, and Bohemia especially, shows a melding of languages, traditions, and cultural memories. For the nineteenth century, this convergence is best shown through the numerous German names given to Czech-speaking cities, such as Karlsbad and Marienbad. Because language and textual practices are key factors in the propagation of a collective identity, the predominant use of the German language in this area presents a complicated view of what a proposed national identity could be in an originally Slavic-based culture during the early twentieth century. In the nineteenth century, Bohemia’s position within the Austro-Hungarian Empire coupled with its close proximity to Northwestern Germany (and its capital state Brandenburg) place the region in a liminal state of political identification.                                                                                                                123 Milos Jiranek, “The Czechness of our Art,” in Between Worlds: A Sourcebook of Central European Avant-Gardes, 1910-1930, ed., William R. Hackman (Cambridge: MIT Press, 2002): 56-7. 63   The public desire for separate Czech and Slovak nations during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries was heightened by political events in Central Europe, especially the fragmentation of the Austro-Hungarian Empire’s holdings into sovereign states and the consequent rise in the public interest for self-definition via culture. This cultural re-identification is especially present in period discourses on literature and art/design. While the manifestation of regional identity in the glassmaking sphere is significantly clearer later in the twentieth century, the same concepts are nevertheless present and thriving in the century’s first twenty years. Jan Assmann’s interpretation of cultural memory hinges on what art historian Aby Warburg originally called the “mnemonic energy” attached to such cultural artifacts as posters, postcards, and souvenir ephemera.124 Mnemonic memory is imparted through both visual and textual modes of communication, thus lending itself well to a discussion of visual imagery on engraved glass, and textual communication of period discourses on art and design. Milos Jiranek, a prominent art critic writing at the turn of the century describes the notion of “Czechness” by name in a 1900 article for the journal Radikální listy: The Czechness of our art will be self-evident: when we have a number of distinctive characteristics that can be artistically expressed, it will be what we share as a race that… will be the Czech quality of our art. … [The Czech artist of tomorrow] will use not only external form from the past—for example folk embroidery or ornaments—but its real substance, the visual sense Czech art inherited from old women of Slovak Moravia who decorated their porches with amazing instinct; he will use all the achievements of modern culture to create a                                                                                                                124 See, Aby Warburg, Martin Warnke, ed., Der Bilderatlas Mnemosyne (Berlin: Akademie, 2000). This project details Warburg’s collection of posters, costumes, customs, and ephemera used to communicate the cultural nuances associated with the visual memory and visual culture of Western civilization, especially as these images relate to classical antiquity. 64   strong sense of self and to apply forces inherent to his race, that beautiful race that survives in full strength because and as long as it is Slavic.125 Jiranek’s description of this nationalistic quality in art is both figurative and concrete, and is a textual example of how cultural identity is preserved through written discourse. While he specifically invokes the past styles of traditional handcraft associated with Czech folklore and the women of Slovak Moravia, Jiranek nevertheless omits any concrete characteristics of new Czech art, deliberately leaving the question open-ended in terms of content. The symbolic powers of form, tradition, and regional identity are integral to Jiranek’s definition of Czechness, and demonstrate how a collective notion of self in the political sphere also extends to the art/design spheres. Spa Glass and Nationalism Four glass cups respectively created in the neighboring spa regions of Frantiskovy Lazne, Kamenicky Senov, and Zelezny Brod materialize Jiranek’s idea of Czechness (figs. 31-34). These four pieces demonstrate how a variable perception of national identity can in fact be applied to Bohemian spa glass from the three major time periods discussed in this project: the early nineteenth century, the turn of the twentieth century, and finally, the 1930s-40s. The progression of styles in Biedermeier to pre-World War II Bohemian glassmaking is characterized by an overall attention to traditional techniques of glass engraving. These four examples are exemplary of their respective periods, and retain significant similarities in design and technique, especially through the use of highly refractive colorless, engraved crystal.                                                                                                                125 Jiranek, ibid. 65   The internationally renowned quality of Czech cut glass first developed in the seventeenth century, but it experienced a particular rise in popularity during the Biedermeier period with the work of expert glass engraver Dominik Biemann. Trained at Novy Svet, Biemann was internationally renowned for his accurate engraved portraits and custom spa glassware engraved with landscapes, spa vistas, and portraits for visitors to the spa town Františkovy Lázně  (Franzensbad) in Northern Bohemia. Biemann’s abilities as an expert glass engraver are demonstrated in a luxury souvenir vessel depicting the Madonna della Sedia, based on the painting of the same name by Raphael in the sixteenth century (fig. 35). By translating a painted image to glass, Biemann shows the difficulties of achieving varied textures and clarity of composition, all without the aid of colored enamel. Biemann’s engraving skillfully differentiates between the soft fringe of the Madonna’s woven shawl, the thick locks of each figure’s hair, and the smooth skin of the child’s bare legs—all on a miniscule scale (the cup is approximately six inches high) (fig. 31). Biemann’s artistry was considered the highest possible quality of glass in Central Europe during the early nineteenth century, and was therefore inherently tied to the international view of Bohemia as a producer of exceptional glassware—elite tourists from all over Europe sought out Biemann’s spa cups like the Madonna piece produced near Františkovy Lázně.   The religious iconography popularly depicted on this type of commemorative spa glassware shifts to a secular theme in the second example from the early twentieth century: this tumbler, designed by sculptor and glass engraver, Michael Powolny, displays the same level of technical skill but uses allegorical instead of religious subject matter (fig. 32). Powolny was trained at an industry school in present-day Znojmo and 66   later completed his studies at the School of Applied Arts in Vienna. Art and design historians usually focus on Powolny either as a sculptor or pivotal member of the Wiener Werkstätte (Viennese Workshops), and later founding member of Wiener Keramik workshop that focused on porcelain and ceramic designs. However, Powolny’s glass designs produced near the glass at Novy Svet for J. & L. Lobmeyr in the earlier part of his career are noteworthy examples of using colorless crystal as an international signifier for Bohemian luxury and quality in the glass industry. A colorless crystal cup from 1917 is engraved with the allegorical figures of Fortune, Health, and Joy in a rotating scheme of robust classical female nudes. The expressive quality of these figures is seen through Powolny’s attention to movement and rhythm, especially in the diaphanous fabric draped over each figure’s legs and in their diagonal postures. The cup’s allegorical subject matter heralds a new era of health, happiness, and good fortune--all aspects of Central European life that were markedly missing during World War I, at the same historical moment this cup was made. Powolny’s cup therefore relates to the regional culture in an idealistic way: while Biemann’s luxurious engraving symbolizes the unique value of the Bohemian glassmaker, Powolny’s engraving signals a desired cultural rebirth in the wake of violent conflict. The visualization of the region’s desires for regional identity and cultural preservation at this time were further developed in designs by the glass artists Vladimir Linka and Jinrich Tockstein, both working as glass engravers in the Zelezny Brod area of Northern Bohemia, near the spas associated with Jablonec nad Nisou. These final examples depict the traditional laboring class at work in the fields, frozen in the act of Senosec, or cutting hay (figs. 33-34). Colorless cut glass in this case is a signifier for 67   industrial strength of Czechoslovakia in the years following the country’s 1918 decree of sovereignty from the Austro-Hungarian Empire. In fact, 92% of the region’s art and industrial glassmaking output was concentrated in this region by the time the hay-cutting pieces were created in the 1940s.126 By choosing the vernacular subject of farming, also a traditionally important industry for the region, the engravers demonstrate Warburg’s idea of a commemorative aura surrounding objects: these two spa glasses adopt a culturally significant message through their subject matter while also validating the region’s traditional technical excellence in glassmaking. This type of nationalistic symbolism in the glass industry was founded on years of occupation, either by German or Austrian and later Soviet influences. The state-funded glass schools in Novy Svet, Kamenicky Senov and Zelezny Brod were focused on preserving traditional glassmaking techniques and the high quality associated with Bohemian glass. Alois Metelák, the founder and director of the Železný Brod glass school held a pivotal role in educating glassmakers in a distinctly Bohemian, or Czech style. His influence as both a glassmaking educator and practitioner prompted a clear view of what the glassmaker’s role should be in crafting a cultural identity: For us it’s a matter of personally creating a Železný Brod style of working. We strive that our glass not be from Železný Brod in name only, but in spirit as well—that it recall the local landscape and the people’s entire lives, so that our glass will become more and more a matter of regional culture, so that the glass produced here will search the entire world for its own spirit, taste, and perfection that cannot be achieved elsewhere.127                                                                                                                126 Antonín Langhamer, James Patrick Kirchner, trans., The Legend of Bohemian Glass (Prague: Tigris, 2003), 142. 127 Quoted in Langhamer, The Legend of Bohemian Glass, 150-1. 68   The area surrounding Novy Bor and Kamenicky Senov was characterized by the presence of the glass industry; in addition to two major schools founded in this area, most private homes also had studios for painting or engraving, and many glass decorators who essentially worked as freelancers for many different refineries.128 Expert glassmaking and engraving was therefore embedded in the fabric of these people’s everyday lives. German and Czech Cross-Cultural Influences: Conclusions Analyses of this period in Czech cultural history diverge on the question of German influence. Specifically, scholarship surrounding the notion of German Romanticism as a precursor to the Czech desire for nationhood and developing a culture independent of other neighboring Slavic cultures (like that of the Slovaks and the Austro-Hungarians) presents a perspective of the Czech National Awakening based on linguistic rebirth and philosophical threads other than those represented by German and Austrian counterparts. For example, German philosopher and literary critic Johann Gottfried Herder is often credited with the rise of German Romanticism, and ultimately the desire to nationalize the region.129 His writings highlight a rise in the nationalist interest within Central and Eastern Europe as well, but a critical perspective of the cultural overlap is imperative, as argued by Czech historian Zdenek David’s reassessment: …‘The influence of the German cultural milieu on the beginnings [of the national awakening] was so overpowering that it is virtually impossible to speak about cultural distinctiveness.’ … [This] view, however, dissolves if examined against a more                                                                                                                128 Deborah Truitt, Collectible Bohemian Glass: 1880-1940 (Kensington, MD: B&D Glass, 1995), 27-8. 129 Robert B. Pynsent (Questions of Identity: Czech and Slovak Ideas of Nationality and Personality, New York: CEU Press, 1994), 40. 69   nuanced analysis of Czech receptivity to intellectual impulses from the camp of rising German nationalism. It is based on a confusion between linguistic form and intellectual content.130 This discussion of nationalism in terms of linguistics, especially the reintroduction of the Czech language into popular usage during the nineteenth century denotes a distinct interest in the political context of Central Europe during the seventeenth century, namely the German victory over the Czech lands during the Thirty Years War in 1620, and the subsequent eradication of Czech language books, education, and governance from all sectors of public life.131 The usage of the Czech language was therefore relegated to vernacular usage among the illiterate lower classes. During the Czech National Awakening in the nineteenth century, language was integral to the cultural development of a distinct nation. The rise of Czech usage in the nineteenth century was necessarily focused on the vernacular quality of the language, having to draw vocabulary, spelling practices, and grammatical structure from a purely verbal form used by lower class peasant populations.132 This project was eventually strengthened by the publication of a Czech-German dictionary by Josef Jungmann in the 1830s, and the reimplementation of the language into Czech universities.133 National cultural institutions such as the national theatre and the national museum were later implemented in the mid-nineteenth century, and these developments will underscore how a discussion of Central European nationalism relates to developments in the arts and industry sphere, especially in the context of glassmaking. Three examples of cultural and educational endeavors in this                                                                                                                130 Zdenek V. David, Johann Gottfried Herder and the Czech National Awakening: A Reassessment (Pittsburgh: Univ. of Pittsburgh, 2007), 12. 131 Pynsent, 46. 132 Ibid., 33. 133 Ibid., 34. 70   period will support the connection between the glass industry and notions of nationalism: the Manés Union of Fine Arts in Prague, the Prague Academy of Applied Arts’s Architecture and Decoration department, and the Kamenicky Senov and Novy Bor schools for glassmaking in Bohemia. The prominent Czech literary critic and theorist Frantisek Xaver Salda wrote on the relationships between artistic creation, metaphysics and semiotics in his theory of Synthetism, namely that “when applied to artistic creation… [synthetism] would be limitless: it would not exclude any objects, ideas, concepts, types, formulations of emotions, and psychical elements… The only important thing was to discern in each object its inner meaning, its “soul.” This “interior” was to be unified with the “exterior” in artistic expression in order to constitute a psychical sign.”134 Salda was partially influenced by the Gesamtkunstwerk philosophical view of art as all-encompassing, but added to this an interpretation of art as specifically significant of an essence, or energy. This denotes an understanding of objects as purveyors of an essential meaning—especially in the context of the Czech National Reawakening movement, this essence would undoubtedly be related to the communication of locality, that is, a physical emblem of aesthetic and technological practices viewed as inherently Czech or Bohemian. It can be argued that the essential quality of the juxtaposition of varied and dynamic, yet functional forms in spa glass and ceramics speaks to a melding of Central European cultural relationships between German, Austrian and Slavic regions—and can                                                                                                                134 Oleg Sus, From the Pre-History of Czech Structuralism: F. X. Šalda, T.G. Masaryk, and the Genesis of Symbolist Aesthetics and Poetics in Bohemia, vol. 8 of Linguistic & Literary Studies in Eastern Europe: The Structures of the Literary Process, P. Steiner, M. Červenka, and R. Vroon, eds. (Philadelphia: Univ. of Pennsylvania Press, 1982), 567. 71   actually signal their eventual rapport in the field of modern design. While the 1930s examples directly reference the political divisiveness of impending World War II, their counterparts during the Art Nouveau period are less literal. The late nineteenth and early twentieth century examples embody the notion of tradition, or as Jan Assmann would call it, “the objectivation of culture.”135 This refers to the creation of cultural memory through both everyday communication (as discussed previously, communication can be forms of tradition, textual and oral histories, visual imagery, and rituals). I extend Assmann’s interpretation of culture to period aesthetic discourses as well as literature to highlight perceived national attributes through a focus on form rather than subject, especially through traditional craft. This begins to explain the intangible transcendence of objects from initial everyday things to preserved cultural artifacts. These central European glassware designs subtly encompass the diverse realms of historicism, tradition, regional culture, theoretical discourse in order to communicate a pluralistic and deeply evocative conception of their time and place.                                                                                                                135 Assmann, “Collective Memory and Cultural Identity,” 129. 72   Conclusions The essential, or abstracted, meaning of these glass objects is perhaps their most important theoretical function—that which has drawn me to this area of research. In tracing the presence of souvenir and spa cups through the Biedermeier period to the early twentieth century, I have discovered cultural overlaps and regional attributes that were heightened by a juxtaposition with German literature. But why German literature, specifically? The examples I have chosen were widely published and circulated within the timeframe of this project, and are most often interpreted as cultural touchstones for their focus on the Romantic ideal of the self and the individual’s relationship to the natural landscape. This concept of the self is interwoven with the individual’s understanding of a sense of place to achieve a conceptual pairing unique to Central Europe’s cultural history during this time. Further examples of both German and Czech literature are necessary in continuing this discussion of the textual relationship to objects and cultural memory. Bohemian traditionalism coupled with regional/national culture are also areas that require further research in glass studies. This project constitutes one possible approach to redressing this gap in scholarship—especially by combining methodologies of literature, fine art, and decorative art interpretation to provide a richer historical portrait of Central European culture. Ultimately, Erwin Panofsky’s ascending structure of iconology has provided a foreground for my approach to this material. Connecting the culturally resonant prose of Goethe, Stifter, and Mann to glass objects produced in a German-influenced, but politically separate Bohemia admittedly complicates the contemporary conception of what constitutes anything as specifically “German, ” “Bohemian,” or 73   “Czech.” The subtleties of the cultural overlap in this region have allowed me to analyze both Czech and German attributes equally, while also acknowledging these terms as social and political constructs. Complicating the discussion is my intention, however, especially to show the many layers of cultural identity at work during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries: a resurgence of Central European nationalism in both German and Czech spheres, Czech linguistic rebirth, and a utilization of traditional glassmaking techniques to further a region-specific identity in Bohemia. The overarching presence of the Bohemian spa in this context has given me the opportunity to take a cross-section of specifically Bohemian culture and apply it to a collection of glass objects. The transformation of chemical agents and basic elements into a highly crafted, usable drinking vessel can also be translated to an interpretation of the artistic experience: glass objects play a role in a larger living experience, namely the concept of Lebenskunst, or “Living-Art.”136 Synthetism’s goal to integrate art into everyday life echoed the Gesamtkunstwerk ideals of the Austrian and German design community as well. The importance of the transformative process associated with art, and how it could shape and color the mundaneness of a quotidian existence is paralleled in the glassworking process itself. The importance of integrating basic materials like ash, silica, and lime in the creation of a successful batch of glass adheres to the transformation of the ordinary into the extraordinary in the sense of mystical transcendence. As it is described in a treatise                                                                                                                136 Lebenskunst can also be translated to “hedonism,” but in the context of this discussion of aesthetics, I choose to focus on its figurative definition as a blending of art, philosophy, and life, and by extension, the individual’s enjoyment of a fulfilled existence through all of these areas. 74   from 1856, Lebenskunst has a nourishing quality, or the ability to enhance both intellectual and corporeal experiences. 137 Frantisek Salda’s synthetist theory can be considered a parallel to the contemporary German Lebenskunst . Art Historian Petr Wittlich describes synthetism’s influence on Czech cultural identity by showing that Salda’s “program for literary criticism had an effect on the entire spectrum of Czech culture. Salda’s optimistic vision of style presupposed that all artistic disciplines would be collectively involved in linking art and life and elevating the national spirit to a higher plane through the creative vitality of culture.”138 It is this elevation of art and design in the public sphere that relates best to the glass examples produced later in the twentieth century, and a proposed desire to cultivate a Czech national identity via a traditional craft. The use of the drinking glasses at Bohemian spas denotes a capability beyond the cup’s basic use: the cup is a manmade link mediating the guest’s corporeal and psychological ailments. Narrative themes of political, national, and cultural affiliations recur in the discussed object examples, and represent the diverse iconographical and theoretical interpretations that spa glassware can elicit. As communicators of specific concepts of psychological and physical spaces in nineteenth-century Central Europe, these cups embody cultural characteristics unique to their place of production. The prominence of commemorative objects in the context of nineteenth-century Bohemia and Germany delineates the dual function of presentation and souvenir pieces. With these abstract interpretations in mind, I now interpret spa glassware as a carrier of a heightened commemorative experience: these objects embody the landscape through their chemical configuration in addition to their mimetic                                                                                                                137 Carl Gustav Carus, Über Lebenskunst (Wurzen: Verlags-Comptoir, 1856), 5. 138 Petr Wittlich, Prague: Fin-de-Siècle (Paris: Flammarion, 1992), 194. 75   representations of architecture and nature, ultimately alluding to distinctive views of Bohemian and German local space and identity. The connection between spas and the curing experience (Erlebnis) provides a richer understanding of the necessary objects and souvenirs the individual spa-goer would have encountered in that time and space.139 This method is characterized by an ascending structure: first, analyzing primary subject matter, then iconographical meanings, and finally, addressing iconology, or relationships to cultural historical context.140 These pieces exist in a larger, multivalent sphere populated with complex cultural and regional relationships. The synthesis of the object’s physical characteristics and contextual implications demonstrates that spa glass—often showcased according to decorative technique—does not only exist in the vacuum of a museum vitrine: on theoretical and historical levels, these objects embody the regionalist traditions and cultural memories of Bohemia’s past.                                                                                                                        139 Heikki Lempa, “The Spa: Emotional Economy and Social Classes in Nineteenth-Century Pyrmont,” Central European History 35, no. 1 (2002): 41. 140 Erwin Panofsky, Studies in Iconology: Humanistic Themes in the Art of the Renaissance (New York: Harper & Row, 1972), 5–9. 76   Bibliography Acquisto, Joseph. “Music, Desire, and Death in The Magic Mountain.” Rodopi Perspectives on Modern Literature 25 (April 2002): 9-21. Adlerova, Alena, Jan Mergl and Duna Panenkova. Das Böhmische Glas 1700-1950. Vols. III-IV. 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Topp, Leslie. “An Architecture for Modern Nerves: Josef Hoffmann’s Purkersdorf Sanatorium.” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 56, No. 4 (December 1997): 414-437. Truitt, Deborah. Collectible Bohemian Glass: 1880-1940. Kensington, MD: B&D Glass, 1995. Truitt, Robert and Deborah. Collectible Bohemian Art Glass 1880-1940. Volumes 1 & 2. Kensington, MD: B&D Glass, 1995. Uekermann, Gerd. Renaissanceismus und Fin de Siècle: Die Italienische Renaissance in der Deutschen Dramatik der Letzten Jahrhundertwende. Berlin: De Gruyter, 1985. Vaget, Hans Rudolf. Thomas Mann’s The Magic Mountain: A Casebook. Cambridge: Oxford, 2008. Velicu, Adrian. “Cultural Memory Between the National and the Transnational.” Journal of Aesthetics and Culture 3, (2011): 1-4. von der Osten, Gert. Der Schmerzensmann: Typengeschichte eines Andachtsbildwerkes 1300 bis 1600, Berlin: Deutscher Verein für Kunstwissenschaft, 1935. Waetztoldt, Wilhelm. Das Klassische Land: Wandlungen der Italiensehnsucht. Leipzig: Seemann, 1927. Wagner, Irmgard. “Goethe’s Bohemian Traces or: Marienbad Mirrorings,” Modern Language Studies 31, no. 1 (Spring 2001): 151-162. Walter, Hugo G. Space and Time on the Magic Mountain. New York: Peter Lang, 1999. Wittlich, Petr. Prague: Fin-de-Siècle. Paris: Flammarion, 1992. Wood, Ghislaine and Paul Greenhalgh, “Symbols of the Sacred and Profane,” in Art Nouveau 1890-1914 (London: V&A, 2000): 73-91. 81   Appendix A: German Exonyms and Corresponding Contemporary Czech Endonyms German (English) Czech Böhmen (Bohemia) České Království Eisenbrod Železný Brod Franzensbad Františkovy Lázně Karlsbad (Carlsbad) Karlovy Vary Marienbad Mariánské Lázně  Neugebäu Nový Svět Steinschönau Kamenický Šenov   Gablonz an der Neiße Jablonec nad Nisou           82   Appendix B: Glass Terminology Unless otherwise noted, all entries are from the Corning Museum of Glass, Online Glass Dictionary, s.v., http://www.cmog.org/research/glass-dictionary/a (accessed February 1, 2012). Copper Wheel Engraving Copper disks (wheels) of various sizes are rotated on a spindle. An abrasive such as Carborundum mixed with oil, is applied to the edge of the wheel. The wheel presses the abrasive against the glass so that it removes the surface by grinding, creating decorative indentations or patterns depending on how the wheel is positioned by the cutter. Cut to Clear Referring to the layering of different colors in one glass object. This was a type of decoration involving colorless glass cased (or covered) in as many as 5 or 6 different types of colored glass in the hotworking process. In the coldworking process, the piece would then be cut using a copper wheel engraving process to reveal the many layers of color in decorative patterns. Thus “cut to clear” became a manufactory term for wares that involve many layers of colored glass that are cut to show their clear bottom layer. Diamond Point Engraving A type of decoration using diamond-tipped tools to create finely etched decoration on the surface of the glass. Flashing The application of a very thin layer of glass of one color over a layer of contrasting color. Flux A substance that lowers the melting temperature of another substance. Potash and soda are both fluxes added to batches of glass to assist with the melting process. Former A substance that makes the structure (or network) of the glass possible, and is necessary in combination with a flux and stabilizer to create a successful batch of glass. Silicon is one example of a former. Hyalith Two varieties of glass, opaque black and opaque red, developed by the Bohemian glassmaker Jirí von Buquoy (1781-1851) and patented in 1817 and 1819 respectively. Lithyalin A type of glass, developed in Bohemia by Friedrich Egermann (1777-1864), that is opaque and has a marbled surface resembling semiprecious stones. Porrón A type of drinking vessel with a narrow neck, a long and tapering spout, and no handle. 83   Ruby Glass Ruby glass is achieved by adding specific amounts of gold chloride to the batch of glass, and Johann Kunckel, a chemist working in Potsdam in the late seventeenth century, is credited with perfecting this process. This process would change later in the nineteenth century with the use of other copper-derived additives to achieve a similar blood red color. See, Dedo von Kerssenbrock-Krosigk, ed. Glass of the Alchemists: Lead Crystal - Gold Ruby, 1650-1750, Corning, NY: Corning Museum of Glass, 2008. Stabilizer Usually  lime,  a  stabilizer  is  necessary  to  provide  chemical  stability  in  a  batch  of  glass  to  prevent  deterioration,  especially  crizzling,  or  a  network  of  small  cracks  that  is  often  caused  by  the  unstable  glass  composition’s  exposure  to  and  interaction  with  moisture  in  the  atmosphere.                                                                     84   Illustrations Fig. 1. Room in the Apartment of Princess Elisabeth. Zimmerbild. Berlin, ca. 1840. From Biedermeier: The Invention of Simplicity. Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2006. Plate 94. Fig. 2. “Scenes from Marienbad” beaker. ca. 1840. Glass, 11.7 cm. Metropolitan Museum of Art. 27.185.285. 85   Fig. 3. Spa cup, Marienbad. 1840-50. Glass, 11.7 cm. Count Harrach Glassworks, Nový Svět, Bohemia. Muzeum skla a bizuterie, Jablonec nad Nisou, Czech Republic. From: Zázračné prameny: lázeňské a upomínkové sklo. Jablonec nad Nisou: Muzeum skla a bizuterie, 2009. Plate 23. 86   Fig. 4. Monogrammed cups. 1830-50. Glass, ca. 12 cm. Kokonín and Novy Bor, Bohemia. Muzeum skla a bizuterie, Jablonec nad Nisou, Czech Republic. From: Zázračné prameny: lázeňské a upomínkové sklo. Jablonec nad Nisou: Muzeum skla a bizuterie, 2009. Plates 126-128. Fig. 5. Goblet. ca. 1809. Glass, 14.9 cm. Samuel Gottlob Mohn. Corning Museum of Glass, Corning, NY. From: Corning Museum of Glass, http://www.cmog.org/artwork/goblet731?query=biedermeier&goto=node/51200&filter=%22bundle%3Aartwork%22&sort=bs_has_image%20desc%2Cscore%20desc%2Cbs_on_display%20desc&object=9#.URB6IKF2FU5 (accessed January 15, 2012). 87   Fig. 6. Drinks set - “J. W. Goethe and his nearest and dearest,” ca. 1900. Glass, maximum height 33.5 cm. J. & L. Lobmeyr Company, Vienna. Painted by Karl Fiedler. Muzeum skla a bizuterie, Jablonec nad Nisou, Czech Republic. From: Zázračné prameny: lázeňské a upomínkové sklo. Jablonec nad Nisou: Muzeum skla a bizuterie, 2009. Plate 154. Figs. 7 and 8. (L-R) Hunting Motif Glass, 1825-35, Novy Bor. Muzeum skla a bizuterie, Jablonec nad Nisou, Czech Republic; Hirschensprung Mug, Karlsbad, 1890-1910. Sudetendeutsches Archiv, Munich, Germany. 88   Fig. 9. Hirschensprung. Karlsbad, ca. 1905. Period Photograph. Fig. 10. Caspar David Friedrich, Der Wanderer über dem Nebelmeer. 1818, oil on Canvas. Kunsthalle Hamburg. 89   Fig. 11. Adalbert Stifter, Felsstudie (Hirschensprung). 1840, oil on paper. Fig. 12. Adalbert Stifter, Wasserfall in Ramsau mit Blick auf dem Watzmann. 1829, gouache on paper. 90   Figs. 13a and b. (L-R) Postkarte Gruss aus Marienbad. 1890s; Karlsbad Sprudelwasser Fountain and Kursaal, ca. 1898. 91   Figs. 14 and 15. (L-R) Spa glass, Marienbad, 1850-60. Count Harrach Glassworks, Nový Svět; Spa cup, Marienbad, 1840-50. Count Harrach Glassworks, Nový Svět. Both located at Muzeum skla a bizuterie, Jablonec nad Nisou, Czech Republic. 92   Fig. 16. Friedrich Overbeck. Italia und Germania. 1828, oil on canvas. 94 x 104 cm. Neue Pinakothek, Munich. 93   Figs. 17 and 18. (L-R) St. Teresa of Ávila Cup, 1850-60. Cut-to-clear Glass, enameled and engraved. Count Harrach Glassworks, Nový Svět; Christ with Crown of Thorns Cup, 1850-70. Crystal glass overlaid with copper ruby blown, cut and engraved. Count Harrach Glassworks, Nový Svět. Both located at Muzeum skla a bizuterie, Jablonec nad Nisou. 94   Fig. 19. Gian Lorenzo Bernini, Ecstasy of St. Teresa. 1647-1652, marble. Santa Maria della Vittoria, Rome. 95   Figs. 20 and 21. (L-R) Glass depicting Our Lady of Svatonovice, 1850-60. East Bohemia, probably Markousovice Glassworks; Cup, Mariazell, a place of pilgrimage, sometime after 1850, Bohemia, Sumava. Museum skla a bizuterie, Jablonec nad Nisou Fig. 22. The hand of Mrs. Wilhelm Roentgen, 1895. Diapositive X-ray by Wilhelm Roentgen. 96   Fig. 23. Spa Mug, Karlovy Vary (Karlsbad). ca. 1925, glazed porcelain. Fig. 24. Josef Hoffmann, Purkersdorf Sanatorium, Purkersdorf, Austria, 1904-1905. Façade design. 97   Fig. 25. Josef Hoffmann, Purkersdorf Sanatorium, Purkersdorf, Austria, 1904-1905, Dining Room. Fig. 26. Josef Hoffmann, Purkersdorf Sanatorium, Purkersdorf, Austria, 1904-1905, Patient Room. 98   Fig. 27. Schweizerhof Hotel, Interlaken, Switzerland, 1900. Bedroom. Fig. 28. Schweizerhof Hotel, Interlaken, Switzerland, 1900. Grand Hall 99   Fig. 29. Schweizerhof Hotel, Interlaken, Switzerland, 1898-1900. Dining Room. Fig. 30. Würzburg Residenz, Imperial Apartments, 1806-1813. Napoleon’s Bedroom. (Bed installed 1812). 100   Fig. 31. Madonna della Sedia Glass / Portrait of an Unknown Man, 1826. Harrach, Novy Svet. Engraving by Dominik Biemann, Prague or Frantiskovy Lazne. Muzeum skla a bizuterie, Jablonec nad Nisou, Czech Republic. 101   Fig. 31a. Detail of Madonna della Sedia piece. Fig. 32. Bechervase, J. & L. Lobmeyr, 1917. Designed and engraved by Michael Powolny. 102   Figs. 33 and 34. L: Bozetech Medek, Senosec (Cutting Hay), Cut vase with original reverse engraving, Zelezny Brod, 1940s. R: Jindrich Tockstein, Senosec (Cutting Hay), Zelezny Brod, 1944. 103   Fig. 35. Raphael, Madonna della Sedia / Madonna della Seggliola. 1513-14, oil on panel. Palazzo Pitti, Florence.